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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 4 years

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𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡

⤷𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘭𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘧𝘦𝘺𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴, 𝘵'𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘶𝘥𝘢𝘬𝘶, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦

[maladaptive daydreaming: psychiatric condition, causes intense daydreaming that distracts a person from their real life –but in a good, protecting way.]

𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙭𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙛𝙛: at first, he thought that you are just simply bored from him, looking into the infinite distance (or arcoss the wall above his shoulder, or out on the window, lingering your eyes on the cute birds on the pylon). but then, we you told him your thingy thing, he got more protective of you, mainly when the two of you took long trips even at night on the metro or one of tony’s super machines back from a fight.

leaning on his shoulder, your hand slipping out from his grasp –he pats your head, waiting for your response, but when you let out a little sigh, he knows that you’re in your little world. looking around, pietro wraps his arm around you, kissing your head, even try to cover your ears if the noise is too loud –don’t even minding carrying you by your waist or in bridal style. when your daydreams disappears, you hold his hand, feeling comfortable around him. “i daydreamed again... sorry.” sitting down, he kneels before you, brushing through your hand too, slowly raising up to kiss you softly, not wanting to rush out from your haze because of the after-effects.

“don’t worry, baby”, he mutters, helping you up to go ahead. “let’s get you home and nap, hm?”

𝙡𝙤𝙠𝙞 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙛𝙚𝙮𝙨𝙤𝙣: he reads your mind immediately when you doze off, seeing nothing but tender, soft pictures about your imagination. brushing your shoulder, when you just blink up to him, waking up from the dream, wiggling and gasping a little bit. “loki, i-i... i have to tell you something. it is too bad, but i have these daily beddings, sometimes persistent, sometimes not, and when i’m not paying attention to you, i’m just–” you babble, but loki only touches your forehead with the pads of his fingers, brushing down on your eyes to close it.

“i know, my queen.” manipulating your fantasy, he shows you the most beautiful, most marvellous things he had ever seen, stroking your soul –seeing your musing, faint smile, he ends slowly, in case if he’s leaving a too big space in your head. “you liked it, sweet queen?” “yes, of course, this is so wonderful, ethereal...”

“just like you.” flashing his glorious smile, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

after that, he tells to every slave that if you’re in your dream-state, don’t them dare to disturb you. loki even speaks with frigga, trying to decode your dreams. when some mindless freak tries to harm you because of this, he will fight them with your manner: sneaking into his head, tearing them apart to leave you alone. he tries to protect your little world with everything he has, i promise you.

𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨: in the beginning, bucky thought your dreams are bad dreams, or bad memories, just like his –when he saw that your glazy eyes, neutral features, bucky tried to ‘wake you up’, and this little action kinda ended in your freak-out, shaking a little bit, babbling something like –“i’m fine, bucky, sweetheart, don’t worry...” seeing that you’re a little fright, shaken up from your deepest fantasies, he tries to make it up to you.

“sorry, doll... i just thought that you have some bad stuff too, and i don’t want you to suffer. but shaking is not the best option, i know.” you giggled at his words, grabbing with both of your hands his mechanic one.

“don’t worry, it happens very often with me. these times i wander to my little universe, filled up with people, with things i like... with you.” seeing his shy smile, you look up at him. at night, with you in his arms, he thought about your talent all day –“what do you think, can i grow my own world too?” he asks, curling a lock behind your ear as you place your head on his chest.

“of course, buck. everybody can do this, i’m just... pro about this thing. just try to think on only good places, people or memories you have, and let your mind bury yourself under it.”

“it sounds a little bit scary, doll, you sure you’re alright with doing this?” you hum, placing a kiss to the place where his collarbone met his shoulder, poking out a little bit. while you drive off into fairly dreams, he tries to think on the things you told him –mostly on you. like here, laying with him in the peace of the night, your silky hair touching his skin.

pulling up the blanket to cover you, he maybe began to like this little world-thing with you.

𝙩'𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙖 𝙪𝙙𝙖𝙠𝙪: t’challa knows the importance of the healthy soul and the poise of the mind –but still a little bit surprised about your almost die-hard self-discovery. when the two of you first met, you were with natasha (i think on the congress of the sokovian pact –even if you don’t sign it), you zone out a little bit, only shaking back to the earth when your friend asks you. he find himself impressed with you very fast, despite that sometimes you get lost in your thoughts, you have a very bright mind, and your personality is really interesting for him. but he’s still find your daydreaming a little bit worrisome –t’challa respects you rather than asking you something inconvenient, so he asks his sister, who’s also one of your best friends.

“so, y/n”, shuri starts when she parts from her microscope, rolling with her chair to another desk, grabbing some tissues and test tubes –“what about your tiredness? do you get enough sleep these days?”

you lolled your legs on the high counter, snapping your head to her side, nodding a little bit.

“yeah, i’m fine. i’m perfectly fine, i’m just... a daydreamer, i guess.” you told her about the facts, and narrated a little about the plots you had in your mind.

“that’s cool, i mean– i just asked because t’challa cares about you... i mean, i am too! he just mentioned that he want you to feel yourself in behavior.”

and on the other day, tomorrow, when he comes to you to offer you a breakfast, you just know that he really cares about you.

𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚: stephen would see your problems with his realistic mentality, and he thinks at first that you’re just frenzied, giddy, and can’t stay in the entity without being hypnotized. although, his worst kind of scenario is that you’re catatonic –but when you tell him, he’s very understanding, even if the rest of his friends think that stephen’s just a bit narcissitic. he would be overprotective if someone’s messed in you, even if you’re not there with him.

“how’s life, doc?” tony asked, turning to the half-broken or simply medium height pile, ignoring all bruce’s, wong’s and his worries about the enemy of the entire world.

“it’s strange.” he responds coldly, wanting to continue the talk with bruce about thanos, but tony in his irritating way, still interrupt it. “my life is substantially okay, but that’s not why we’re here.”

“what’s up with your weird friend... girlfriend? does she still get woozy, or it’s just when you’re around her?”

that was the time when stephen’s cape slapped down his leg, much to his astonishment but not to stephen. “what the heck was that, doc?”

“an expostulation. once, you keep cut off our converse, even if the world’s doom depends on it. secondly, my life is exactly not your business. and thirdly, you never can disregard or underrate my loved ones.” or loved one, he adds, ut only in his mind.

“woah, okay, easy doc. i just asked. i didn’t knew that you have feelings like normal people.”

stephen stares up, a laconic quip growling in his mind, but he don’t let it out. yeah, maybe he have feelings too. but only for you, for your freaky-dizzy self.

.*ೃ✧₊˚.❁ ↷

𝘪'𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦ᵘʷᵘ

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clan-sayeed-fic · 4 years

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Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: strong language, a little smut, but mostly angst Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

I hope you won’t hate me for this chapter, and you’d stay here a little longer to see the ending of this story.

~ 2000 words

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Chapter 22

Amy got out of the limousin right after it stopped by her apartment. She got out of it quickly, heading to the doors.

Kamilah and Adrian needed to stay at the gala until the end because of the scheduled Council meeting convened by Vega.

And Lily... well, she wanted to party.

That created the best opportunity for Amy to go back to their place and pack up her things. In case anyone wanted her to stay at the Council meeting, she told Kamilah that she wasn't feeling good. And as a result, she got an order to go back home immediately.

Amy had her time to think about how she should deal with what Vega expected from her. How to let go of Kamilah. Especially after they finally got close to each other more than ever before.

She knew that no matter how she would try, Kamilah would get hurt in a process. The only thing Amy wanted at that moment was to find the least painful way.

She decided to disappear without talking to anyone, leaving behind only a simple note. She knew that it would be enough to break Kamilah's heart and make her question Amy's feelings for her.

Besides, Lily knew her past better than anyone else, she wouldn't be surprised with Amy acting like that. And that would stop her friends from reaching out to her and trying to find her against her will.

That would provide safety for them.

With this thought, Amy took the dress off, putting it aside on the bed, and quickly dressed up in her casual clothes. She sent one last look at this golden color, shining on her bed before her, as she started packing up.

Since she didn't have much, it didn't take a lot of time, and she was soon done with it. She threw the backpack on the mattress and sat down to her desk, writing a note down in a rush.

For a moment, she had a deja vu that grew along with the words appearing on the paper. The note sounded so similar to something she wrote a long time before. But she didn't have much time to think about it as some noises came to her ears.

Someone was outside of the apartment.

Amy hurriedly hid the note under the pillow and made her way to the doors. At the same time, she heard a quiet knocking.

Without much thinking, she opened the door to see...

"Kamilah?" Amy's voice didn't hide how shocked she was and how inconvenient was the timing of the guest's arrival.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," the woman said with a smirk. "Am I not allowed to see how my date is feeling?"

"I mean, you..." Amy wasn't able to finish the sentence because they were already connected in a passionate kiss.

Kamilah pulled Amy further inside the apartment, closing the doors behind herself. The same doors by which she pressed the girl devouring her with ardent kisses. For a moment, they separated from each other, and the woman took a good look at her prey.

"Mhm," Kamilah hummed softly. "I hoped you would wait for me in this stunning dress," her hand gently pulled blond hair away, revealing soft skin. "I imagined how I was taking it off."

She leaned down, kissing Amy's neck, not giving her even a tiny moment to react. The girl was confused by this situation. First, she was so upset about leaving, and now Kamilah by herself was so close, touching her.

And, of course, her body had to react under this touch.

That was something Amy wanted the least. Staying there, moaning under Kamilah's kisses. Surrendering to the warmness of her body, sweet touch of her soft lips.

"Don't you remember that I'm not feeling well?" Amy tried to distract Kamilah's attention, but the woman kept on kissing her, moving lower to the collarbone.

"I thought that you wanted me here," she whispered into her skin, sending shivers all over the girl's body.

Damn it, Amy thought, and finally managed to escape from Kamilah's kisses. She jumped to the side, trying to ease her own breathing and heartbeat. To hide everything that could show the woman how much she enjoyed all of this.

"Did I do something wrong?" Kamilah's chestnut eyes were full of confusion. "So far, you didn't complain about my touch."

"Umm," Amy wasn't prepared for this talk, her plan was completely different. "I..."

"What is this?" the woman's eyes moved over Amy's head, looking at her room, which she was able to see clearly, thanks to the opened doors.

Kamilah wasn't listening to Amy's excuses. She used her vampire speed, and a moment later, she was staying in the girl's room. Her gaze was focused on the luggage lying on the bed. Facial muscles tensed.

"Are you going somewhere?" the woman's voice quiet. She wasn't blind, and her mind already created multiple explanations for the view before her eyes.

For a moment, Amy stood there speechless. Both women were staring at each other, trying to understand each other's minds, thoughts, motives. At first, the girl wanted to give up, explain everything, simply tell the truth. But Vega's words were echoing in her head too loud, and now she was given an opportunity.

"Actually, yes, I am," Amy composed herself, crossing her arms in a defensive posture.

"I see," Kamilah's voice sounded normal as she was trying to keep her mind clear. "Did Adrian plan a business trip that I knew nothing about? Or are you going somewhere with Lily?"

Despite asking, Kamilah was aware that none of those scenarios lined up with what she already deduced.

She knew it was not possible for her to not know about a trip with Adrian. Lily, on the other hand, stayed at the party, and why would she do that if they had plans for the next day. Besides, it wasn't so difficult to notice that Amy packed up in a hurry. She didn't even hide the dress, only left it on the bed.

"No, I'm not going anywhere with Adrian or Lily," Amy moved closer to the bed to zip the backpack.

She just needed to do something with her hands, which were shaking from emotional excess. But most of all, she was afraid that her face would show Kamilah the truth. That in some way, the woman will break her, making her say all of it. And she knew that Vega was a powerful man, he was responsible for Kamilah's injury once. Nothing would stop him from doing it again.

Unless Amy did what he expected from her.

"Are you leaving on your own?" Kamilah tried to figure out what was going on. "Did I forget about some trip you were planning to attend?"

Her questions made Amy's head burn with pain. Feelings were attacking her from every corner of the room. Her chest filled with anger that she had no reason to feel at that moment. Fury that caused her eyes to shine like gold.

"Oh my god," Amy threw the backpack on the floor. "It's none of your fucking business Kamilah," she looked into the woman's eyes directly, piercing with her icy stare. "You don't get to boss me around anymore."

For a moment, the full of hatred voice escaping Amy's mouth made Kamilah forget her own words.

"I don't understand," she whispered finally.

Amy sighed, not breaking out of the character.

"Of course you don't, how could you," she burst out with anger even if deep inside all she felt was despair.

Then, she saw a look on Kamilah's face. The misunderstanding mixed with genuine concern. An urge to be helpful.

"Tell me what are you feeling right now," Kamilah was never this vulnerable, never wanted this much to understand a human being. "I want to help you."

"There's nothing you could possibly do," Amy didn't drop her gaze, she was good at this, she did it so many times. But never to the person that she cared about so much. "How could you understand my feelings when you're this cold, emotionless creature?!"

She walked out of the room, toward the doors, forcing Kamilah to follow her steps.

"What happened?" the woman was shocked, she had never seen Amy in such mood. Never acting so cold, arguing so much without giving any reasons.

"You happened, Kamilah Sayeed," Amy's words were like a poison, causing the woman's heart death over and over again.

They made her feel the same emptiness she remembered from when she was turned into a vampire, over two millennia ago.

"If I ever did something...If I ever pushed you to do anything against your will, tell me," Kamilah's head was filled with conflicting feelings.

She wasn't mad at the girl for saying such things. But at the same time, she was getting hurt. And that was something Kamilah didn't feel for such a long time.

"Well, guess what," Amy's eyes shining gold with sadness this time, but for Kamilah, it looked like she was afraid of her, "it's too late for that."

The girl opened the doors wide, gesturing her to leave. She didn't know how much more she was able to handle this game, seeing Kamilah's pain. How her whole appearance was growing weaker with Amy's every word.

Kamilah made it closer to the doors, but still as far away as she could from the girl, not wanting to make things worse. The last thing she wanted in the world was for Amy to be afraid of her.

To see her as a monster.

"I am," Kamilah's voice shaky. "I'm so sorry."

And after those words, she disappeared using her vampire speed, leaving behind herself only a gust of wind that brushed Amy's hair.

She left, leaving behind herself emptiness.

The same emptiness spread inside Amy's chest. Her legs trembled, knees got weak, causing her to curl up against the wall. She was shaking, hiding her head in hands. Tears were escaping her eyes, flowing down her cheeks.

Quiet sobbing filled the apartment. It was the only sound echoing between the walls as the opposite of the loud argument that happened just a moment earlier.

Amy wiped the tears from her eyes and took a phone out of her pocket to type a message.

"I'm ready."

She went back to her room to take the backpack from the bed and put her jacket on.

Amy turned around to look one last time at her room before she left it behind.

Forgetting about the letter, which she hid under the pillow.

The note, that was her only hope.

***

Amy was sitting in front of Adam Vega in the office inside of his mansion.

As soon as her message arrived, he sent a chauffeur for her to pick her up from the apartment. And drive her directly to him. During the whole road, Amy was shaking. Not because she was scared of what was about to come. The reason for that was the guilt she felt for letting down Kamilah's trust in such a cruel way.

After a few hours, Amy found herself sitting in front of the desk. She was reading the contract with her eyes opening more in shock with each word.

That was unbelievable.

What he wanted from her was just... unbelievable.

Her throat was tightening as her eyes were moving down the pages, taking the words in. Getting to know the fate that was waiting for her.

"I can't," Amy's voice sounded so weak. She didn't hear this part of her for a long time.

For such a long time, she didn't feel as vulnerable as at that moment. Everything that happened to her during those last few months built up her confidence. It made her the person she always wanted to be.

Strong.

With friends worth her trust on her side.

She had it, she finally had it all. And needed to let go of it in a split of a second. Like her whole journey meant nothing.

Vega came closer to the desk on the opposite side of it. He reached for the pen, which was lying on the wooden surface, holding it for Amy to take.

There was no smile on his face, only a fierce look.

Amy took the pen without dropping his gaze.

And that's when she heard the words, of which she was afraid the most.

"We had a deal, Ms. Moore."

Next chapter: 23

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tag list: @onyxgaytrash @lightning-fury @scarlet-letter-a0114 @caliseds @myonlybae-joohyun

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #kamilah #bb kamilah #bloodbound kamilah #choices bloodbound #bb mc #choices bb #Kamilah bb #Bloodkeeper #BloodBound #choices fanfiction #choices fic #choices stories you play #angst

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theangriestpea · 4 years

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The Killing Type | One

Summary: Just when Lavender thought things were going great with Sweet Pea, a new girl comes back to turn to turn their entire relationship upside down. Now they have to navigate a world of drug dealers, rival gangs, and co-parenting. Sequel to Mercy Killing. <ao3> <masterlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Sweet Pea x OC // eventual Jughead Jones x OC

Warnings: referenced teen pregnancy, referenced sexual assault, cheating/lying, PTSD

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: I cannot believe I wrote this is such a short amount of time, omg. As stated on the final chapter of Mercy Killing, this is a sequel to both Mercy Killing and @the-gargoyle-queen‘s fic Young Gods. The timelines for both are a little screwed up to make them converge. We begin this series at the end of sophomore year with no time between Mercy Killing chapter 16 and Chapter 1 of The Killing Type, and one year after Young Gods. Try not to focus too much on the lack of continuity for the sake of future plot. I think Lily is a bit OOC in this chapter....I made her into an uber bitch and she's not.

Chapter One - A Mercy Killing

Lavender stared at Jughead, not at all understanding what he meant by forgiving Sweet Pea. What had he done this time? Of course the two fought more often than not over petty things but they made up hours, sometimes minutes later. It was just their dynamic. “Who is she?” She pressed as he looked at his buzzing phone again.

“Lily is Sweet Pea’s ex but I think he should really be the one to tell you all of it.” He said, his anxiety starting to show with his tone of voice. Lav made a face that he couldn't quite tell what it meant. “Listen, just try to get his side of things before exploding on him, okay?”

She stiffened, not liking his accusation of her tendency to react dramatically to any inconvenience no matter how minor. “Why did no one tell me about her? All this time and I’ve literally never even heard her name before. I don’t understand what the big deal is!” Her voice started to edge on the side of frantic as panic began to flood through her. Who was this girl and why did no one mention her?

Jughead sighed. “It’s complicated, Lav. Sweet Pea told us not to mention her around him. We all agreed that it would be better for you and him if you just didn’t know what went down between them.”

“So, everyone collectively decided that I, Sweet Pea’s girlfriend, didn’t need to know about someone who was obviously very important to him? Why is he hiding her from me, does he still have feelings for her or something?” She asked, her tone turning accusatory. Jughead put his hands up to try and calm her down, but instead she stood. “Whatever, Jug. I’m going home. Have fun talking to your new best friend.”

“She’s not-!” Before he could finish she had slammed the door behind her. Jughead sighed and sunk down into the old couch. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.

Lavender made a bee-line for her trailer as fast as her short legs would carry her. She was fuming at the thought that everyone kept some big secret from her, and worse of all she was dying to know what it was. She sent a quick text to Sweet Pea, demanding he come over to “come clean” when he was done with his job. Sweet Pea, being ever the oblivious asshole, had no idea what he needed to come clean about but figured the purple haired girl would fill him in when he got there.

Hours later, once Sweet Pea was done running bike parts to Centerville, he walked into the Rhodes trailer having no idea what shit storm was about to be thrown at him.

First of all, he found his girlfriend curled up on the couch in a state of drunkenness that he hadn’t seen her in in many months. Immediately he thought something had happened, she had a PTSD episode or someone made threats. In an instant he was by her side, her thin shoulders in his hands to get her to look at him.

“Who is she?” Lav slurred, eyes red from crying. Every worst case scenario had gone through her head. Was he cheating on her? Did he have some other life that she had no clue about and he was keeping it from her? How could this girl that she knew nothing about cause her so much grief?

Sweet Pea’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Who is who?” He asked, having no inkling of what in the world she was talking about. “Why did you drink so much?”

“Lily Owens.” Lav spat hotly, “Who is she?!” Her voice began to raise with notes of hysteria. She was so worked up and heartbroken and she had no idea why.

His blood ran cold as he stared at her. He had hoped that he could have approached the subject of his ex eventually, when the time was right. But Lavender was so god damn sensitive that he didn’t think that time would ever come. The insecurity she felt after the attack by the Ghoulies was so great that sometimes he felt trapped in that even talking to a girl she didn’t know had her upset.

They had a long talk about it once and she agreed to get it handled in therapy. And she did get better but there were times when he knew she just couldn’t help it. They had broken her so thoroughly that it was going to take time. He sighed softly, trying not to show how aggravated he was. “She’s my ex, Shanna. I was going to wait to tell you this but...She’s coming back to town in a few days and she needs a place to stay...with our daughter.”

“Your what?” Lav asked, somehow finding the fact that he had a child with another woman was way worse than him cheating on her. “You had a kid and never thought to tell me?!” Fresh tears came to her eyes and quickly fell down her face that was flushed pink from inebriation. “Don’t you think that was something I’d need to know?”

He flinched, feeling the hurt roll off of her in waves. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d overreact!”

“Overreact?!” She yelled, her voice finally raising. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You kept a whole ass family secret from me, Sweet Pea! Get out. Just get OUT.”

His eyes narrowed as he stood, releasing his grip from her. “You always do this! You always fly off of the goddamn handle over every little thing. So I have a daughter, so what? I’ve never even met her! Lily ran off pregnant and had her without me there, so yeah I don’t bring it up because I’d rather not think about being a dad at sixteen! You’re not the only fucked up person in this relationship!”

She stared at him with stunned silence and he knew he had gone too far, as he always did. Sweet Pea just huffed angrily before turning and leaving in a manner exactly as she had from the Jones trailer earlier that day.

The next two days, Lavender spoke to no one. Not Jughead, Not Fangs, and especially not Sweet Pea. He hadn’t even bothered to text or to call as she was always the one to give in first. Still, the fact that he wasn’t even trying to patch things up between them only served to hurt her more.

Fangs had left her small apologetic presents at her doorstep. Flowers, snack cakes, chocolate, even a bottle of her favorite rum. While she accepted the gifts, she still refused to speak to him. His messages were all left on read.

Jughead and Toni had both sent only one apology text, while both seemed pretty heartfelt, they were also denied any kind of answer from her. It was only after an hour and a half long intense therapy session did she decide to try and make up with all of them. Her therapist had helped her realize that Sweet Pea was put in a difficult position from the start of their relationship with her trauma and intense insecurity. In the end, she concluded that he wasn’t purposefully trying to hurt her. He was trying to save her. It just ended up blowing up in his face.

She had picked up a carton of Marlboros for him and was walking up to his trailer. She didn’t notice whether or not his bike was on the side of the house, and dismissed the beaten up car parked on the street as a neighbor’s. It could have easily been someone else’s. Or maybe his dad was finally out of rehab?

Knowing that he was possibly still upset with her, she chose not to use her key to walk in. Instead she knocked on the door in her usual fashion and waited, cigarettes in hand. What she didn’t expect (but totally should have) was for a teenage girl to open the door.

She was shorter than Lav by about an inch, brunette, and absolutely stunning. Lavender's heart fell into her stomach. “O-Oh,” She stuttered, “I thought-”

“He’s not home.” The girl said in a somewhat flat tone. She had learned all about the person in front of her from Jughead. He filled her in on all of Sweet Pea’s doings while she was gone. “But you can come in and wait for him. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The door opened wider and Lavender looked inside, noticing that now the trailer was littered with baby clothes, toys, and assorted things necessary to take care of a child. The scene made it all too clear to Lavender that Lily, who she assumed opened the door, was now living with Sweet Pea. Suddenly she was breaking all over again and the progress she made in therapy was virtually gone.

“I should go.” Lavender mumbled, unsure of where she fell in this new hierarchy. “Can you just tell him that I came by? I need to talk to him.”

“You’re Lavender, right?” Lily asked and she nodded in response. “I’m Lily. I think we should talk. Come in, it’ll be easier than standing out here. Daisy is asleep so don’t worry about her.”

Lav did not at all feel comfortable talking to her, but the backfiring of a nearby car put her so on edge that she had no choice but to hide inside. She felt idiotic by being set off at a time like this. The intense need to hide somewhere where she felt safe overrode her discomfort with the situation at hand.

Lily seemed to have some knowledge of what was going through the other girl’s head. She noticed her jump and frantically check her surroundings at the loud sound. Jughead and mentioned her PTSD and that Lily should tread carefully for the time being. After knowing what happened with the Ghoulies, Lily ultimately felt pity for Lavender and not contempt...Though if she were completely honest, there was a little of that too.

It was clear to Lily that Lavender was very disoriented by the sudden amount of baby things around the living room, as well as an open suitcase that had all of Lily’s belongings in them.

The current girlfriend sat down on the chair that Sweet Pea fell asleep in way too often and sunk down into the cushions as if she were trying to disappear from sight. Lily took a seat on the couch, wondering if the awkwardness was going to go away any time soon.

“So you live here?” Lav finally asked, nearly flinching under the look Lily gave her. The question seemed much too obvious, of course she was living here. She had nowhere else to go.

“Yes.” Lily said, her voice a little more curt than she initially intended. “We needed a place to stay since my mom stayed in Toledo. Sweet Pea said it was okay. Is there a problem with that?”

“No! Not at all.” Lavender said quickly, wishing she had turned and ran when she had the chance. “Sweet Pea just didn’t tell me…”

Lily huffed, of course he didn’t. “We need to talk about that.” Of course, she still had residual feelings for the serpent. He was the father of her child. And the way he had ended things were so messed up. Plus he had said when she came back they could start all over. Obviously that wasn’t going to happen now.

“I get that you’re his girlfriend now. I mean, I never expected him to pick a Northsider over…” She stopped, seeing the hurt expression on Lavender’s face brought on a wave of guilt. “You really had no idea about me, did you?”

“No…” Lav said, her voice so soft that Lily almost didn’t hear it. “We never talked about past relationships. Look, I really need to go. Can you just give these to him for me?” She asked, motioning towards the carton of cigarettes in her lap.

“When did you start dating?” She asked, her tone serious.

“Three months ago but we hooked up the July before that….” Lav admitted, not wanting to withhold anything.

“July?” Lily asked and Lav sensed the anger in her voice. “I knew he was cheating on me. I knew it.” She hissed under her breath, not meaning for Lav to actually hear her.

Pain ripped through Lavender’s chest. He had still been in a relationship with Lily that night? She felt like she was going to throw up. She abruptly stood. “I-I’m sorry, I…” She didn’t know what she could say to make any of this better.

“I’m not blaming you.” Lily quickly said after a small sigh. “You didn’t know….How could you have known that I was about to give birth to his daughter? Of course he’s so fucking selfish he didn’t even say anything about it to either of us.”

Lav was holding back tears to the best of her ability. The thought of being the other woman, even for just one night, made her want to lock herself up and drink herself into oblivion. Really she only stayed away from the unhealthy coping mechanism when Sweet Pea was around. Right now, it didn’t seem as if he’d have time to be around for very long. He had a baby to take care of.

“I’m sorry,” She apologized again, really just having no idea how to handle this situation. She backed towards the door, reaching for the handle when it swung open. Sweet Pea was there, looking as tired as ever. A confused look crossed his face when he saw the tears threatening to fall from Lavender’s eyes.

“Shanna?” He asked, not knowing what Lily had done to make her upset...if she had done anything. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize but.” She was too upset to be angry at anyone other than herself. “I need to go home. I got you some cigarettes...here.” She shoved them into his hands before nimbly squeezing past him and running off.

Sweet Pea looked down at the carton before looking up at Lily. “What did you do ?” He asked, his voice threatening to raise.

“You slept with her before you broke up with me.” Lily said, her voice low but angry. “You didn’t end things until August. You said, you said we could start over if I came back, Sweet Pea. You promised me that we would try for Daisy.”

He felt utterly lost. He had loved Lily so much but her leaving had him feeling so alone that he needed something . His dad had started his first stint in rehab and had been in and out since. He was so completely alone with no one to hold at night. Initially he had felt terrible about it but the guilt went away because in the end she had left him when she said she never would.

“You left, Lily. What did you expect?” He asked, his voice icy. “You abandoned me like everyone else did. How did you think I could continue to love you after that?” Her hand reared back and slapped him hard across the face, the sound bouncing off the walls of the trailer. And deep down he knew that he deserved nothing less.

Lavender returned to her trailer, attempting to put herself back together. She had truly wanted to work things out with Sweet Pea and didn’t have the strength to curse him to hell when she saw him. And the look on his face when he saw her. Past his confusion was definite regret. The softness of his eyes made her want nothing more than to be held by him. She wasn’t sure if that was ever going to happen now.

She eyed the bottle of rum on her kitchen counter and she knew that she should resist it’s calls. Did she really want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow? It seemed better than feeling heartbroken at his point.

As she reached for it, she heard a knock on her door. Lav let out a sigh of relief to have been stopped before she drowned herself yet again. She went to the door to see her boyfriend standing there, looking equal parts pissed off and broken down. His left cheek was bright red and starting to bruise and she knew that Lily must have hit him.

She said nothing as she opened the door for him and he walked in, hands clenched into fists. He was clearly agitated but not at her. That was evident enough in him not screaming at her when she opened the door. He saw the bottle of alcohol sitting out in the open and made a straight line to it.

Lav felt as if she were about to cry again, this time for him. Because like her, Sweet Pea also had a habit of hitting the bottle when he felt like the lowest of the low. Of course, she was still very much heart broken by his actions before but seeing him in pain was a whole new kind of ache. It was one that she found herself hating more.

“Wait,” She called out just as he grabbed the bottle by the neck. “Pea, can we talk first? I promise not to yell at you…” Her voice showed her weakness, but she didn’t really mind since he was the one hearing it.

Sweet Pea let out a tired sigh and nodded. He carried the bottle to the couch and sat down with a heavy thud, keeping the rum in hand as if in case of emergency. Lav gently sat down next to him, turned sideways on the seat to face him fully. “Can you just...explain to me what’s going on?”

“I fucked up.” Sweet Pea said, scowling at himself, “again.”

She knew his biggest fear right now was her leaving him. While she thought she had abandonment issues, his own were far worse. “Just tell me what happened.” She said, her voice gentle to show that her being upset wasn’t as important as what was going on with him currently.

“I loved her, you know? I didn’t mean for her to get pregnant.” Sweet Pea said, his voice extremely quiet. He very rarely opened up like this. And him doing it sober was a first. “Then she left. She left like everyone else leaves. And you’re probably going to leave too because I always mess everything up. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend or baby daddy or whatever. I’m just a teenager. I just don’t know.”

Lav put a hand on his leg, moving closer to him as a few stray tears escaped her eyes. “I’m not leaving you. I just want to know everything. That’s it. I’m sorry I blew up on you the other day. I should have let you have a chance to explain. It seems that I don’t know how to be a good girlfriend either…”

He let out another sigh as he set the bottle down on the table in front of him and pulled her into his arms. He hated for anyone to see him like this, but he hated being alone even more.

He buried his face into her blonde roots and just breathed in the scent of her vanilla shampoo. Lav nuzzled her face into his chest, listening to him breathe. "I told her I'd try, Shanna. Before you. Before everything. I promised her."

Lavender squeezed her eyes shut, having no idea why she was going to say what she was about to. "If you have to," she couldn't even say it. "I understand, Sweet Pea. It's okay. I'll be okay."

That wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he appreciated her willingness all the same. "Can I stay here tonight? One last time?"

She couldn't stop the silent tears from coming and in truth she didn't want to. "Of course, Pea. One last time."

The next morning, Lavender awoke to find herself alone in her bed. The spot where Sweet Pea had slept the night before was still warm. She sighed softly, not having the emotional energy to even cry over the loss of their intimate relationship. Could they even function as friends? They weren’t friends before they started dating, so how could she expect them to be after? She had no idea what she was going to do without him by her side almost every night. Perhaps it was time to talk to Fangs again.

She called him over after attempting to shower the sadness off of her. She put on clean underwear and lounge-wear as she waited for him to come over. Fangs came crashing through the door like a puppy who had missed his owner, grinning at her and quickly making his way to the couch.

He stopped grinning when he saw the forlorn expression on her face. “What’s wrong, babe?” He asked, taking her hands into his.

“We broke up last night.” She muttered. “Because he...he promised Lily before we were together that they could start over when she returned.”

Fangs was frowning. While he loved both Lily and Sweet Pea, he had long since come to the conclusion that they were much better as friends and not as lovers. But, he also knew that Sweet Pea intended to keep any promise he had made if he could. And though he could tell his friend was visibly upset, he was surprised to not find her crying and drinking. Despite it being only ten AM.

“I wish I had told you, Lavie.” He said in a quiet voice, pulling her into his chest to try and soothe the heart he knew to be aching in her chest. “I’m so sorry. You deserved to know. I just thought...you were doing so well…”

“It’s okay, Fangs.” She mumbled, her voice muffled by his t-shirt. “You had made a promise too. I just...I just don’t know where to go from here. I mean, I thought that I might...you know…”

He pulled her away, looking over her flushing face. “That you might love him?”

She groaned, “please don’t say it out loud. It sounds so stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He bit back, almost angrily. “It’s not stupid at all. Come on, let’s go to the quarry. It’s finally warm enough to swim!”

Lavender froze. She had many plaguing thoughts about wearing a bathing suit in front of others. While all her wounds had healed perfectly well, she still had long, thick bands of scar tissue across her thighs and stomach, with a few smaller ones on her chest. Sweet Pea was so far the only one she had let see them since she was able to shower alone and clothe herself. The thought of anyone else possibly seeing them made her sick to her stomach.

“I don’t feel like getting wet, I just took a shower.” She lied, hoping he wouldn’t call her on it. Unfortunately today was not a day that Fangs was feeling particularly intuitive.

He cocked his head to the side, “but you love to swim. It’ll cheer you up!”

“I don’t have a bathing suit that fits.” She lied again, hoping that maybe he’d either catch the hint or drop it. “My boobs got bigger over the winter and mine are all too small now.”

His eyes looked at her chest as if to examine it. If it were anyone else, she’d be offended, however it was him so she knew it was not meant to be explicitly lewd. “They look about the same to me. You can always wear a bra or something instead.”

Lavender wanted to hit him upside the head for being so dense. She knew he wasn't purposefully being obtuse but it was still grating her nerves. “Fangs. I don’t want to go swimming.” Her voice was a little more firm now in an attempt to get through to him.

A puppy-dog look crossed his face as he pouted at her. “But...Lavie...it’ll be fun…You can wear some of my trunks if you want?”

She let out a sigh of defeat, “alright. Bring me some with a drawstring so I can tie them tight otherwise they’ll just fall right off.” His pout was replaced with a broad smile as he all but cheered with success.

Fangs left but was back five minutes later with a pair of black swim trunks for her. He happily handed them over as she went into her room to change. She put on a purple bikini, which still fit perfectly fine, before putting on his pants. She then put on an old form-fitting T-shirt that kept all of her scar tissue covered.

As she looked herself over in the mirror, she frowned. She looked utterly ridiculous but it was better than exposing the truth. She didn’t want anyone to be reminded of that day back in early January.

She finally came out of the bedroom to see Fangs packing a bag of snacks and a cooler of beer for them. “Jones and Topaz are meeting us there. I hope that’s okay.” He said, his back turned to her.

“That’s fine…” Lav mumbled awkwardly. She had already forgiven them as well, and hoped that they’d help her forget about her ruined love life.

They made it to the quarry, the sun shining high above them. Toni and Jughead were on the small beach, clad in their swim gear already. They both gave Lavender strange looks at her attire. “My, uh...bikini doesn’t fit anymore.” She said, but the only one to catch the lie this time was Toni who gave her a worried look.

“Lily will be here in a few with Daisy.” Jughead said as he typed a message onto his phone. A panicked look crossed Lavender’s face.

“Jughead...why would you do that?” She asked as Toni elbowed him in the ribs. He looked up, appearing like a deer in headlights. It hadn’t really occurred to him how awkward it might be for her. Really he just wanted to hang out with her, having missed her all these months. It had almost been a full year since he’d seen her last.

Toni sighed, obviously aggravated by his lack of thought. “Lily is cool, Lavie. Don’t worry about her.”

Lavender tried not to think about their only interaction. Lily had called her a Northsider, reminiscent of Sweet Pea back before they were dating. It was an insult that she hated. She couldn’t help that she had grown up mostly on the Northside or that she didn’t dress like a typical Serpent. She enjoyed soft colors a bit too much and flannel looked terrible on her.

“Okay.” Lav forced herself to say as she plucked a can of beer out of the cooler Fangs had brought. “I guess meeting Sweet Pea’s daughter would be kind of cool.”

“That’s the spirit!” Fangs said cheerfully as he stripped off his shirt. “Let’s go!”

He attempted to pull her into the water. “Fangs! I’m trying to drink, I’ll join you in a minute!” She pleaded with him, trying her best not to spill any PBR in the process.

“Oh fine, you have five minutes so you better chug it or I’m throwing you in.” He let her go, shaking his head before him and Toni raced to the water.

Jughead was quiet. “You broke up with him.” He said, his voice low so that the others wouldn’t hear. “So he could be with Lily….”

“Yea.” Lav replied as she took a gulp from the can.

"I know why you're wearing that ridiculous get-up, Lavie." He mumbled to her. "You don't have to hide it from us. I'm sure they're barely noticeable."

She frowned, refusing to look at him. "I didn't want to come at all. This was a compromise with Fangs. He was too dumb to figure it out."

Jughead grabbed a beer for himself and sat down, motioning her to join him. She sat down next to him on the makeshift log bench. "Figures. At least his heart is in the right place."

They watched Toni and Fangs splash one another. "How are you holding up, really?" He finally asked.

She opened her mouth to answer when she saw Sweet Pea, Lily, and Daisy approaching, she quickly shut it. "Don't worry about it." She said, throwing her head back to finish off the beer in her hand.

Jughead frowned, wanting her to open up but also knowing that she wouldn't now. Who knows if she ever would. He knew that the progress she had made was about to backslide thanks to her and Sweet Pea no longer being together. Despite the rocky beginning, they truly were good for one another.

He wanted to say something encouraging, but failed at the sight of Lily. This did not go unnoticed by Lavender who was sure to bring it up later.

Sweet Pea wouldn’t look at her. He was carrying Daisy, who at nine months looked exactly like him. Lavender wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to stand the sight. Her chest was so heavy that she was worried that she’d sink when she got into the water. If she got into the water.

Lily gave her a strange look. “Are those Fangs’?” She asked, nodding her head towards the trunks Lav was wearing. It wasn’t mean spirited, rather just honest curiosity.

“Yea. My bikini is too small so I asked to borrow his shorts.” Lavender said, her tone even and not bearing any ill will. The atmosphere surrounding them was completely uncomfortable and Lav had no idea what to say.

“Jug, can I talk to her alone for a minute?” Lily asked, her voice gentle and there was a small smile on her face. Jughead nodded and stood, patting Lav on the back briefly before walking closer to the shoreline.

Sweet Pea glanced at the two of them, wanting to listen to whatever Lily had to say but also knowing she’d probably yell at him if he did. He begrudgingly moved towards the water with his very excited little girl.

Lily waited until both boys were out of earshot. She turned and looked at Lavender who was toeing the dirt with the tip of her shoe. “Thank you.” Lily said, her voice genuine. “You didn’t have to break up with him.”

Lavender couldn’t help the hurt sigh that left her, “Yes I did. He made a promise and I wanted him to keep it.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to because I’m not taking him back.” Lily said. She wasn't hostile but there was anger hidden somewhere in her tone. Lavender mistook it to be directed towards her when it was truthfully towards Sweet Pea. “He cheated on me. And to be honest, I can’t be sure that he won’t do it again.”

“You left him.” Lavender said back, jumping to his defense. “What did you expect?”

Lily’s gaze hardened. “I expected some common decency from the man who told me he loved me. What I didn’t expect is for him to stick his dick in someone else just because things between us got hard. All he had to do was talk to me. He could have broken it off first before pursuing other people.”

Lavender was sitting rigidly on the log, daring to look up at Lily. Her hazel eyes encapturing a mixture of rage and pain. But Lily wasn’t done. “I’m sorry for what the Ghoulies did to you, I am. But he can’t fix you. And it’s not fair to put that responsibility on him either. He needs to be a father to Daisy right now. That’s what’s important.”

She was speechless, unable to come up with anything to say in return. While Lily had a valid point, it hurt tremendously to hear it. Lavender stood and Lily backed up to give her space. “This was a mistake.” She said, obviously talking about coming to the quarry. She took a few steps before stopping and turning back towards Lily. “And for the record. You don’t know a single thing about me. So maybe you should stop assuming the type of relationship I had with Sweet Pea. That’s between us. Not you.”

She turned back, grabbing Fang’s keys from his pile of things and leaving. The only one to notice her departure was Sweet Pea, who failed to mask the pained expression on his face at the sight of her go.

-----------

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

Put a ring on it 2

Gonna drop this here super quick and then go back to cram for my finals. Who allowed me to schedule six finals in one week? I’m gonna die. Pray for me.

Tagging @jedissica ‘cause they asked me to, and @animemangasoul who I think will like this.

---.---

-Batman, here we are. It’s been a while since you last called an emergency meeting. Is everything okay?

-Were you aware that our children eloped together?

-...what.

-As in, my third kid, your first one, Diana’s second, and Barry’s… grandchild. I’m not exactly sure about who married who, but there was more than one wedding and they have a group chat called ‘hubbies and waifu’. Whatever that means.

-...

-That’s my girl. I always told her, go big or go home.

-Diana, no.

----.----

Cassie’s phone went off again with her specific Diana ringtone, and she gave up, turning it off and throwing it on the pile with Kon’s, Bart’s and Tim’s (the last one had four all by himself, so it was quite a big ‘phone tower’; Hah, pun intended).

-You’re gonna freak out so badly over this when you actually wake up -she informed Tim’s fluffy hair.

Said vigilante only released a cute little snore, face buried on her lap, legs thrown over Kon’s, one hand that had fallen from the couch resting on Bart’s head where he sat on the floor in front of them.

-Well, they were going to find out one way or another. And this was probably among the best scenarios.

-How? I’m sure this one was top five on Tim’s ‘worst case’ nightmare list.

-I was there and saw their faces. I didn’t even know Batman could express any emotion other than ‘cold’ and ‘overflowing with rage’. That image will bring me joy in future distressing times, I’m sure. My patronus memory, if you will.

-I’m soooooooo jealous, dude.

Cassie snorted, carefully not moving an inch, fingers cradling through Tim’s hair. Over her dead body would he ever cut it, now that it was finally long enough to make itty tiny braids all over it, her favorite therapeutic iddle work.

-We’ll make Tim give us footage when he wakes up. He has to provide for us, after all.

Kon let his arm, resting on the backrest of the couch, fall over Cassie’s shoulders- Be sure to include footage from after we left, too. Nightwing’s ‘As in more than one?!’ part was solid gold.

-No kidding, I want that as my ringtone for you and Tim -chimed in Bart, carefully moving Tim’s hand back to the couch and then running to the kitchen- Ice cream?

-Do you even need to ask?

---.----

By the time Tim woke up, the hero gossip network had done it’s thing, and almost everyone with a costume was aware of the news. Even Cissie, who was officially retired, and Zachary Zatara, away on his shows and usually out of reach, had called, the first one to offer congratulations and ask if the thing was real emotionally-wise, the second to just laugh at them for full six minutes before hanging up.

He did text them later, asking when the celebration ceremony would be.

-It’s not a bad idea -mused Cassie, showing them her phone screen with the magician’s text- a party, I mean.

Tim, from his place working a case on the Titan’s main computer, tuted- Batman might actually kill me for that. I think we’ve survived this far only because there are no written records making this official, and a part of him must think it’s all some elaborate prank.

-It’s not -insisted Bart, head poking out of the kitchen- we are family now, officially. No take backs.

Their Robin shifted in place just enough for them to see his smile, a gift on itself- I know, guys, and the sentiment is much appreciated. But from a legal standpoint, it’s not that different from what a few kids on a playground could do while playing family. Only place this could stand against judgement would be the future, some ancient Amazonian tribe, or Krypton.

-Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s true for us. And, I mean, we didn’t want to cut your options if you ever wanted to actually get married the classic way.

This time, their bird actually turned around, a warmth on his expression that he usually reserved for his team. It made them feel special like nothing else.

-Yeah, I know. Thank you for that. It was really considerated.

As if they would drag Tim into something like legal marriage without previous consent. The fact that he even felt the need to thank them for showing him basic human decency was making their blood boil with the need to punch a bat on the face.

Kon flew over, the high chair preventing him from draping himself on his best friend’s back, but not from hugging his neck and messing his hair.

-Back at my point -cleared her throat the amazonian-, your former mentor can suck my metaphorical Freudian dick. We could throw a party, and it would only be different from a normal one because marriage celebrations include gifts, which I’m totally for. I haven’t seen Zatara, Cissie, Greta and Anita in a while, and Miguel, Raven and Gar might murder us for not telling them about our plans and not making it up to them with a party. No ‘adults’ out of the ones on team, or mentors, invited, enough alcohol to re-drown Atlantis, fancy food bought with Bat’s credit card…

-You are right, it does sound kinda nice -hummed Kon, floating just out of Tim’s range when former Wonder Boy tried to slap his hands away. Silly bat, always denying affection.

-All in favor?

-I don’t know -giving up, Tim went back to his case files- I have a lot to do this days, and there’s a lead that might take me to Asia…

-Isn’t Cass there? Ask her to take over it for you, as a marriage present or something. C’mon Tim, do it for the gifts. Imagine what Zatara might get for us. So crash.

-If it’s a magical object, I won't want it anywhere near me. We bats don’t have the best track record with that stuff, and I swear to god if I get deaged I would use my non-prosecutable age to murder someone. Probably Zatara himself.

-Adorable as that might be, it totally won’t happen.

----.----

-....can you repeat it one more time? Slower, though. I think I’m getting hearing problems.

Raven, through the video call connecting the Cave with the Tower, didn’t seem fazed by Nightwing’s slightly threatening tone.

-I said, the team had a party, everyone got drunk, and it was fine for a while. I was watching over them, but then I needed to use the restroom. When I got back, someone had gotten ahold of Zachary’s gift for Tim, Cassie, Kon and Bart, and…

-Why for those four? -asked Hood, standing right by N’s side. He had came in during Raven’s first explanation, and felt like there was something he was missing.

-It was a marriage gift. Moving on…

-A what?! Since when is Lil Red married? The fuck happened while I was in Russia?!

-...someone had gotten ahold of the gift -Raven kept going, cool as a cucumber. On the background behind her, teen heroes were running back and forth, people were screaming and something was smoking-, which happened to be some sort of magical artifact. Zachary wasn’t really aware of what it did, he just randomly choose it from among his collection of magical tools when he remembered at the last possible time a gift was mandatory for a wedding party. I returned from the bathroom and everything was a mess, the couch was turned upside down, a pipe had burst, the tv was on fire and Tim had been de aged.

There was a battle scream, in a distinctly childish voice, somewhere on the room out of view of the camera, and Raven’s eyes left the screen for a second as if looking at it.

-Was that Red Robin? -Batman, because of course he was listening in, started typing at the console, frantically trying to get a new angle to see what was going on on the Tower.

-He’s unharmed, and everything is under control.

Another scream, this time louder.

-...that didn’t sound under control -mused Dick, apparently still processing the information. Bruce typed faster. Robin gripped his sword tighter, as if readying himself for a war.

Jason still looked utterly lost.

-Marriage? She said marriage? AND YOU ASSHOLES KNEW ‘BOUT THIS?!

-He’s… throwing a tantrum -the woman ignored him, still looking only at her former leader-. Something about using his age to kill Zatara without being convicted. I’ll need to leave now, I only called to ask you to take over Tim’s cases while we solve this issue.

-Wait! Rae, if Timmy’s a kid, he needs to be with us. We are his family, it’s our jurisdiction.

A green bird suddenly landed on her shoulder, halthing whatever response she might give. Gar pecked her on the cheek lightly before turning his beak their direction.

-Husbands and Wives get priority, N, you know that. Cassie, Kon and Bart are looking after him, and keeping him from killing Zachary, while the rest of us research how to turn him back. Zach is actually trying to contact his cousin, maybe the great Zatanna will quicken this process. So, yeah, no Bats allowed on the Tower until then!

-But/!

A loud crash, followed by a wail, made Gar wince and Raven’s head to snap to the side and growl.

-Whelp, gotta go, Tower out! -a ‘Tim!’ could be heard in the background just before the screen went dark.

-...

-...Anyone gonna fill me in?

-Drake eloped thrice over without informing us and has been living in sinful unworthiness with his three partners since last month or so, that we know about. Probably more.

-...Partners?

-You heard her. The speedster, clone and amazonian.

-...

-Dickie, how t’fuck did ya allow’is to happen?!

-IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS ASKED FOR MY BLESSING, JASON!

-B, what the utter hell, ain’t ya supposed to keep track of this kinda shit?!?

-...

-Don’t bother, Father has been broken since learning of Drake’s mistake, and will go unresponsive at the most inconvenient times.

-...

-Fuck, I need a drink. Also, ’m going there.

-You heard Gar, Jay -pointed out Dick- we can’t just walk in there, and the Tower is legally his. We have to be smart about this, plan this through, and/

-Yeah, no, he said ‘no bats’-gesturing at his gun holsters, he started to walk to where his bike was parked-. RIP ya’ll, but I’m different. See ya.

-...

-Tt. Useless. I’ll go back to training. Father, Grayson, should you two, as the plebeians say, ‘snap out of it’ and come with a good plan to get Drake back under our tutelage, I’ll be by the mats waiting.

-...

-...Don’t look at me like that. I raised him for a few months tops, but he’s your kid, not mine. Same with Tim, and Jason’s entirely your fault.

---.---

Meanwhile, back at the Tower, Kon let out a screeching ‘Tim!’ before diving out and catching the baby bird in his arms, halting his fall from the ceiling rafters where he had been climbing. Behind him, Cassie let out a relieved breath.

-God’s above, you almost gave me a heart attack. Okay, new ground rules, this two little feet stay on the ground.

Tim, as proudly as a three year old toddler could, frowned at him.

-Don’t patwonize me, Kon. And lemme go, I havta cacth Zac/ Zat/… Magic-boy.

Bart materialized by their side, arms looping below Tim’s armpints to carry him to the recently put back to its correct place couch. He dropped there, tiny bird in his lap, cooing all the while.

-Aww, you’re precious.

-I could still huwt you -pointed out the toddler, resigning himself at being manhandled.

-I know -replied Bart lovingly, softly stroking his turf of hair.

Somewhere on the side, Cissie clapped her hands, as if getting rid of the dust there.

-Okay, I putted out the fire, so now I’ll be heading home. This magical bullshit is way out of my ‘retired’ comfort zone.

Cassie landed by her side and gave her a quick hug, while Greta walked up to them- I understand, thanks for coming.

-Give us a call when this is solved, we can have a coffee while you complain about your husbands. And… child, now, I guess. God, it was already weird calling Tim your husband, but now he’s a baby and it's doubly weird. Figure this out quickly.

-Will do. See you guys later.

One by one, they all left, some offering their support (appreciated, but not needed, thank you, we’ll manage), some still laughing. In the end, only the Core Four, Gar, Raven and Miguel remained. Zachary probably was there somewhere (if he dared leave without helping them fix this, he was dead meat), but out of the enraged toddler’s sight, which. Wise.

Even if said little human being was pint sized and cow eyed, he was probably still the most dangerous person in the room, unarmed or not (you know what, scratch that; if time with Tim taught them anything, was that no bat was ever unarmed. Even bare handed, their own bodies were weapons).

-...So... What should we do while we wait for Zatara’s solution?

-I vote movie night. It’s not like we can keep on drinking, with a kid in the room/ Auch! Pointy elbows, Tim!

Kon swooped in, picking Tim from Bart’s not invulnerable lap and cuddling to him on the couch by the speedster’s side. Tim knew better than to hit the Boy of Steel without proper equipment, so he let himself fall back against the broad chest. Cassie, talking to the older members of the team on the side, smiled softly at them before returning to her conversation.

As mad as his current situation made him, Tim couldn’t bring himself to pout too much. It had been a fun night, all things considered.

-----.-----

#Tim Drake #kon el kent #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #young justice #teen titans #core four #crack wedding #Don't know what I'm doing hahaha #don't have an excuse i'm just procastinating from studying for my finals #gonna be dead by next week so enjoy this folks #i did this instead of studying #my writing #No edit we die like women

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chemicalmagecraft · 4 years

Text

The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 26

A/N: What's even more fun than a Gamer getting a bunch of really awesome powers all at once?

Sidenote but wHY DO I KEEP CONFUSING ALL FOR ONE AND ONE FOR ALL

xoxoxo

Yang purred as I scratched her chin. "How does fire work?" I asked her in the semi-language cats use to speak to each other.

"Things hit me and fire inside grows," she answered. "Can use fire inside to make myself stronger or warm up."

I nodded and rubbed behind her ears. It sounded like it let her absorb kinetic energy for later use. If I was right it reminded me of One For All but fire-flavored. It probably wouldn't be as powerful as All For One because it was trained up by eight people before I got it, but if it worked right it might be worthwhile to have just in case. As for how I was going to get it?

Copy (Emitter)

The ability to temporarily copy the Quirks of others by touching them. The user can only use one copy at a time and they will wear off after five minutes, but multiple Quirks can be copied at a time. Accumulated resources are not copied.

Current Quirks: I Burn (Emitter): 4:57

It was only a theory at the moment, but my guess was that the way my Quirk copying worked by somehow obtaining data on Quirks and then storing them until I decided to buy one, where it fleshed it out to a full copy. But how did it get the information in the first place? My theory was that it was in some way tied to Skill Fragments or EXP. That was the common link between every Quirk in my Quirk Shop, so maybe it also encoded some information on the person's Quirk while it was at it. Or it was just a third, invisible type of spoil, but in the end it meant the same thing. Outside of special circumstances like quests the only way for me to get new Quirks was to fight someone.

And that wasn't really ideal, so I was hoping if I had a Quirk temporarily it would give The Gamer the same information needed to put the Quirk in the Quirk shop. Which brought me to where I was now, trying to copy my cat's Quirk. I scrolled through the Quirk shop, crossing my fingers and hoping that I didn't waste 3000 SF.

I Burn (Emitter)

I held off buying it. If I was testing, I was testing every possible downside now and not finding out later. First I turned off Copy and reopened the text box for it. It said it still had I Burn on it, but the timer had stopped at 4:42. I turned it back on. The timer started again. I turned Copy back off. So it paused the Quirk as it was when it was off. I wondered if that meant that a Quirk that had a cooldown would only have its cooldown go down when it was active. That would be a little inconvenient because I could only have two Quirks active at a time if I didn't want them to lower in quality, which would probably also slow down the cooldown timer. The only way to know for sure, though, would be to find a Quirk with a cooldown and test it out.

Wow it did not take me long after getting the power to copy Quirks to get Gotta Catch 'em All thoughts... It made me wonder if that was how All For One started out...

Ignoring that dark thought, I entered an Illusion Barrier. I decided to make a skeleton barrier. The skeletons really weren't worth much at this point, even the bosses, but at the same time they couldn't really hurt me and I could at least kill the mooks without any real effort. Speaking of which, I sent my elementals out to eradicate any skeletons that popped up. Because they were part of my magic any skeletons they killed would give me spoils, so even if it wasn't much it would eventually add up.

Now that I didn't have to worry about property damage, I turned Copy (I Burn) back on and slammed my head through my room's wall. I felt heat well up in my body. It reminded me of how One For All's energy pool recharged when I used Meditate at full MP, but only for a moment. If it got that much energy, then that meant that it absorbed energy before my defensive passives, which was the best-case scenario. Now the question was if it would still charge while I was discharging. I reached for I Burn like I did with One For All and jumped with all my strength. I didn't get much energy back from the original jump at all, but crashing through the roof filled me up. While I was in the air I activated one of the two skills I earned in my fight with Kacchan, Imaginary Architect. I started simple, mana forming into solid shapes on my roof. I landed on a light blue tower made entirely of magic.

I heard creaking coming from my roof. Even though Imaginary Architect made temporary structures from pure energy it seemed to still have weight. It didn't make physical sense, but at the same time I remembered that Bound Blade had weight to it and Imaginary Architect was basically just the theory behind Bound Blade taken to eleven. I wasn't much of an architect (though with Imaginary Architect it would probably be a good idea to fix that...) but I managed to make supports that made sure my house didn't fall under the weight of the tower I just made. I dropped Super Regeneration, the second Quirk that I had active, for Float and jumped off of my tower to survey it. It looked decent, but with how much it was draining me even though I had Mantra active I decided to make it a bit smaller. I smiled with the result and went back to the top to check out my other new prestiged skill.

Item Enchantment, as the name suggested, let me enchant items, which on its own I knew I had to get out of my head and into the hands of inventors. And I knew just who to talk to about that. But it also had a minor benefit of allowing me to automatically add enchantments to anything that I create with magic, cutting some of the creation's MP cost out of the enchantment's MP cost. I formed a large brazier with a simple Fire Aura-like enchantment. The brazier lit automatically.

I jumped back off of the tower to look at it again. I'd made a pretty good lighthouse. It was a shame it'd disappear the moment I stopped supplying it mana. I mean I could probably figure out a way to make it last longer, possibly with some sort of magic longevity enchantment, but this particular tower didn't have much life left in it. I took out my phone and snapped a photo, then let it die. It actually looked really pretty while it was dissolving, so I took a few more pictures. I sat down in midair and made myself a chair with Imaginary Architect. It fell because it was a chair and didn't have the power to fly. Next I tried to make a flying chair with air magic. It fell, but slower. I guess I made a gliding chair... Third time was the charm, I made a flying chair. Well, "flying" chair. I didn't have any way to actually move it aside from pushing it, so it was more like a floating chair, but it wasn't a gliding chair. Well actually I was using a Quirk called Float to fly so...

Semantics aside, I reclined in my magical floating chair that I made just because and checked my Quirk menu. Copy was almost out of I Burn, just a minute left, so I decided to just wait it out. While I was waiting I made a marble out of mana and started playing with it. Item Enchantment was too good not to grind out a lot of uses for. I didn't manage to make what I wanted to before Copy ran out, which to be fair that was less than a minute so it wasn't likely I'd make a major artifact, but I was hopeful with what I saw all the same. Once Copy lost I Burn I checked back in the Quirk shop and smiled. It was still there. I bought it after closing the menu and opening it again to see if "updating" it did anything. It looked like it lost the energy I'd accumulated, but I didn't really care about that. I swapped Copy out for it because I hoped it would slowly charge over time.

I looked at the ground, where a few skeletons were spawning, and told my elementals to not kill them. If I wanted to charge up I Burn, then wouldn't it be a good idea to have a bunch of skeletons who couldn't hurt me at all gang up on me? I activated Air Aura and jumped as high as I could, then created a platform in the air and used it to springboard myself as hard at the ground as I could, switching Float for Super Regeneration. I slammed into the ground hard enough to make a crater, then sat up. Because I was grinding anyway, my left hand glowed green and my right hand glowed purple. Getting a better healing skill was probably a good idea, so I was just going to powerlevel Healing Hands and Draining Hands. "Okay, now I should probably look at those titles I got."

I started with the title I got from the obstacle course, Swift as the Wind. It was basically passive Air Aura except instead of generating wind it boosted wind affinity. Useful, especially if I were to combine it with Air Aura. Cavalry Leader wasn't very specific, but assured me that using it would make me better at leadership, riding, and driving and would increase EXP for skills related to them. I guess the driving part came from the robot... Still, it could be useful. Especially if I could make vehicles with Imaginary Architect. Once I got one the appropriate licenses, which would probably be easy if I had a title that increased my ability to drive. Champion of Yuuei, though, was probably the best. It increased HP and MP both by 25%, which on its own was great because it was an upgrade of my Yuuei Student title. But it also said that it improved my Quirks, which could hopefully mean...

I turned Float on without turning off my other two Quirks, but didn't use it. Success! Adding a third Quirk didn't destabilize them with Champion of Yuuei. Maybe... I added Copy to my pile. That did it. I turned Float off. I could probably increase my limit faster by going over it, but for now I was content to just have as many Quirks as I could have active at once without any downsides, especially because that would make I Burn charge slower.

"What next..." I muttered to myself as I felt skeletons ineffectually pounding on my backside, rubbing my chin with my life-draining hand. Aside from grinding until it was time to go see Shuzenji-sensei, I only had two more things that I could think of that I wanted to do. "First," I said as I summoned my Skill Grimoir, "Let's see if there's anything worthwhile in here." I flipped through the pages. Nothing really stuck out to me enough that I wanted to buy them that I wasn't confident I could eventually figure out on my own eventually. That, plus the fact that buying skills and buying Quirks used the same currency, made me decide to only really use the Skill Grimoir for inspiration. I shrugged and broke it over my knee.

Now it was time for some fun. Singularity. It was permanently active like The Gamer and One For All, which heavily implied that it was mine in a way that the copied Quirks weren't. The fact that it literally said it powered The Gamer somehow certainly added to that. It said that I could draw in anything. I decided to test that out on my house. I reached out with a muscle I'd never used before that somehow still felt so familiar and touched the wall with it. A green glow spread across the wall where Singularity touched it, and I could feel where the wall was in relation to me as if by instinct. I tugged on the link I had with it. The portion of the wall that I was connected to was easily ripped out of the rest of the wall. I checked my MP bar and even subtracting Draining Hands and Mantra adding to my MP regeneration the dip wasn't bad at all. Dang, how powerful did I have to be to rip part of the wall out? Next I tried to see if I could pull it in any direction aside from toward me. I tried as hard as I could, but I couldn't lift it up or swing it around, just make part or all of it accelerate towards me. That was different from Mom's Quirk, as she could swing objects around if she moved her hands right, but I supposed I couldn't complain that my absurdly powerful gravitation Quirk didn't also let me easily throw entire walls at people. Not that I couldn't throw a wall at someone with Singularity, it'd just be harder to do.

Next I decided to see what "pulls in the immaterial" meant. On a hunch, because according to Todoroki I could probably do it, I created a simple Mana Bolt on my finger, holding it there, and targeted it with Singularity. It changed from light blue to emerald green. "Neat," I said, then shot the Mana Bolt. About halfway through its max distance I pulled on it. It stopped for a second before coming back to hit me in the chest. "So that proves I can pull in magic," I muttered. "Can I do other forms of energy?" I pointed at a skeleton and targeted the air around it. I concentrated really hard on trying to draw warmth, thermal energy, from it. After a few failed attempts where I just pulled the skeleton towards me a bit I managed to move something that wasn't the skeleton or the air surrounding it. A few more tries and the skeleton was covered in frost. "I did it!" I cheered.

I smiled and moved on to my next idea. If I could move magic and fire... could I move light? I took a deep breath and concentrated. A green aura surrounded me, covering the area around me in a tinge of green. I pulled at all the light around me at once. "Black Hole!" I shouted as I was enveloped in darkness. This lowered my MP regeneration a bit more and I was started to feel a weird strained feeling in my stomach, probably another drawback of Singularity. I tried making a Magelight, but even the magical light couldn't pierce the darkness I'd created. "This isn't your average everyday darkness," I quoted, "this is... advanced darkness!" I smiled as I realized that the connection I'd forged with the area that let me suck all the light out also let me feel everything in the area. It'd probably take some practice to fight in Black Hole, but I could definitely see the merit in making an area of advanced darkness around me that I could sense all of.

I dropped the advanced darkness with a bright flash of green light. I winced because it hurt my eyes. I'd have to watch out for that in the future... I didn't think that I had anything else I could test out about Singularity, except maybe range, so I decided to grind for the rest of the time I had left. I sat down and made a weight set on a set of rails a bit like a guillotine over my head. It didn't hurt me at all when it dropped on my head, but just having it sitting on my head was enough to make my I Burn energy go up slightly faster. It killed the skeletons that were hitting me, though... I shrugged and went into Meditation, setting the stat that it raised to INT and the stat Mantra raised to WIS. It was time for grinding.

xoxoxo

"You wanted to see me?" I asked Shuzenji-sensei when I entered her office.

"Ah, Midoriya," she said. "Good. Take a seat." She gestured to a chair, which I sat in. "Do you know why I called you here?"

"Aizawa-sensei said it was about the Quirk healer lessons?"

She nodded. "You know, it's surprisingly easy to get a Quirk healer license, as long as you can heal with your Quirk and are decently competent. I'm certain it was made that way on purpose. Even if it's illegal to use Quirks in public without a license, I figure at least some government figures decided that having anyone who can heal mortal wounds with a snap be allowed to, as long as they signed the right paperwork, of course. Speaking of..." She pulled out a few sheets of paper and handed me a pen. "As of the sports festival, which by the way I counted as part of your supervised service, you've completed all of the necessary prerequisites aside from signing these papers. Read them if you want, but you have to sign here, here, and here to get your license."

I nodded and read the papers. It seemed in order. I signed them where I was asked to. "Great," Shuzenji-sensei said. "Now because you're a minor you have to get your mother to sign there. Come back to me with it when you get back to school and I'll be able to get it to you by your work study."

"Work study?" I asked.

"Right, your class is going to have a work study with hero agencies soon. The timing felt right, so I figured I'd get it to you before you leave. If anything it'll impress whoever you choose."

"Thank you, Shuzenji-sensei. Also, do you think I could get some costume adjustments while I'm here? For one thing, with my VIT and defensive passives the armor probably isn't worth the slight reduction in mobility anymore."

"Power Loader should be in the development studio. He's the one you want to talk to about that."

"Thank you. Can you tell me where that is?"

xoxoxo

"That's interesting," Power Loader said after I told him about my copy power. "I have some ideas on how I could help with that. I've had to deal with a lot of Transformation Quirks, after all. I won't be able to make anything special for any Quirks unless you tell me which ones you want to be prioritized and how exactly they work, but I should be able to make it so that you don't destroy your costume every time you use a Transformation or Mutant Quirk. Unfortunately, though, I don't think it'll be done before your work study."

"That's okay," I said. "Do you think you could adjust my costume so it doesn't have the armor? It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I have two defensive passives and a self-healing Quirk just in case, so I think I'll take the slight increase in mobility over the armor."

"Good idea. Don't worry, I should be able to do that pretty quick."

"Thank you," I said. "Say, you're Hatsume's teacher, right?"

Power Loader froze. "...Why are you asking?"

"I got a really good spell for support gear and, well, making things in general, but it's kinda complicated, so my best idea for how to get someone else to know it is to have Hatsume watch me using it with the magic-sensing spell I taught her."

"I don't suppose you could try to teach the magic-sensing spell to me?"

I shrugged. "I could try, but I'm pretty sure the only reason Hatsume learned Eye For Magic so easily to begin with was that it was compatible with her Quirk."

He sighed. "Fine, then I'll tell Hatsume that you're looking for her. But I still want to try to learn the spell."

"Okay, so what you do first is..."

xoxoxo

That same Gamer playing with those powers!

Also I forgot to track Izuku's levels over the course of the sports festival... I do know that it should be over two higher than what it was before because tournament arc but I kinda forget what it originally was... I don't suppose anyone here was keeping track?

Also also, I have been planning the next chapter for a while. Even though I only just remembered about it... So hopefully it's good?

Elemental list: Midoriya: Halitus, Dune, Rayne, Blaise, Juniper, Mifuyu, Raimon, Iggy, Sonia, and Claude Bakugou: Pyra and Leaf Tokoyami: Corvo Uraraka: Nebula and Ion Hagakure: Lucy Tsu: Bubbles Aizawa: Charlie and Cassiopeia All Might: Seth O'Scope

#fanfiction #bnha #bnha fanfiction #the gamer #The Gamer Hero Deku #Gamer Hero Deku #GHD CH26

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thedeviljudges · 5 years

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lucky number seven

Steve switches on the television, watches as the black fades from sparks of gray and multi-colored lights into a crystal clear image of Wheel of Fortune. There’s a ding and some shouting, and as he steps away from the medium, someone clears their throat and mumbles, “Can you turn that up, dear?”

He obliges, gives Rosie a smile and replies, “If we turn it up any louder, people will think we’re in a rave.”

She laughs softly, a little roughly from the scratch in her throat. “Wouldn’t that be something.”

“Is this good?” Steve asks after clicking the button, the rising number on the screen set to a level he knows he personally wouldn’t be comfortable with. It’s not about him here, though. He takes care of them the best he knows how, and sometimes that means exhaustion and over stimulation from the differences in how he functions in his life versus the people he takes care of.

“Better,” comes the reply, and with that, Steve leaves, knows Rosie won’t go anywhere any time soon. There’s a lineup on the television. It’s always on at the same time every day, and it’s the reprieve he needs to catch up on all his other rounds.

Heading straight for the reception desk, Steve rounds the corner, tapping his fingers against the surface of the wood. The folders he needs are tucked away under the desk, alphabetized and ready to find. There’s usually a chart on the computer, the one the receptionist is using, and Steve would normally bug her for information about who’s next on his list, but he knows this one. Like the back of his hand, Steve unfortunately pulls the file of his least favorite resident.

“If you frown any harder, your face is gonna get stuck like that.”

Steve blinks, turns toward the voice and finds Robin at the end of it. Her fingernail clacks against the mouse her hand is resting over, eyebrows raised like her point is important.

“I’m not frowning.”

She huffs a laugh and shrugs, turning back to what Steve guesses is college homework. Relief, in some sense, finds his way throughout his muscles. Then again, Steve hardly made it through his first round, and the thought of Robin going further in education is both daunting and excessive if not admirable. “Lies, Harrington.”

In return, Steve tsks but doesn’t argue. So maybe he’d been frowning, but it’s only because he’s on his next rounds. An unlikely presence in a home like this, where visitors come and go freely, where most of the residents are happy as they can be in a world that moves too fast for them now.

He doesn’t want to go, would rather avoid the next room altogether, but with a sigh, he closes the folder, places it back where it belongs and heads toward the bay. The medicine sits stacked in rows, locked behind a thick door in case anyone tries anything funny. He measures what he needs, pops the top off of a few bottles and grabs two cups for his journey.

The walls of the nursing home are pale yellow. Steve’s visited a few in his lifetime before working here, and he thinks they always choose the most mundane colors. They’re always dated, and he can’t tell if it’s a sign of the times or purposefully done to accommodate a sense of familiarity within the residents. Steve thinks that routine is much more conducive, but he’s not a painter, and his decision comes last in these matters.

Instead, he gets to decide whether he wants to enter room 104. It’s cracked halfway open, the television glaringly loud. It’s not that he hates the mister inside, but he gives Steve a run for his money when he’s having a bad day.

Most days are bad days.

Squaring his shoulders, Steve gently raps his knuckles against the wood frame of the door, pushing it open to find his patient sitting up in bed. The clothes he wears are from the night and not usually what Steve expects from him at this time of day. It’s nearing nine, knows there’s something to be said about starting the day off early, that previous sentiment racketing his brain from a redundant lecture.

“Good morning, Mr. Hargrove,” Steve says.

The man grunts in reply, but that’s all he gives Steve to work with. Eyes stare far away from the door to the blue light emanating from the tiny screen hanging from the wall. Voices echo in the space they have, somewhat small and refined because most of the folks living here have very little possessions, and if they had more, they weren’t always allowed to bring them in. Glass trinkets are dangerous and useless stuff after they pass is thrown into the trash. Most bring in books and pictures encapsulated in plastic frames, a reminder that they belong somewhere than just a home for the old.

But this room is bare to its core. The man inside no exception.

“I’ve your medicine for you,” he says gently, feet shuffling across the tile. Slippers sit next to the bed, ready for use, that Steve carefully maneuvers around. There’s not a lot of places to walk around like the shoes imply, and Steve often feels guilty they don’t have a better outdoor situation. The halls are only so long, and supervision is often required for other patients, but the sun would be nice sometimes.

Sometimes.

Steve sets the cups down on the nightstand and waits. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that patience goes a long way with Mr. Hargrove, unfortunately. The inconvenience trifles with the limited time on his hands, always cutting it close with the next visit on his list.

“Don’t want none of that.”

Dwelling within his lungs is the urge to release all the air, let them deflate while oxygen runs across his teeth. The day doesn’t have to be difficult, but there’s always a caveat.

“I know Mr. Hargrove,” Steve says alongside sympathy. “But you know you have to. They’ll help you feel better.”

It’s a wry look he receives, dark pupils staring at him from the corner of older eyes. The crow’s feet are jagged lines that run from the corners of the eyelid back toward the thinning line of hair, what little is left.

The silence balloons between them, only the television playing against the stillness. Steve hears the remnants of Rosie’s show ringing in his ears, played on repeat from all the times he’s turned the television on just in time for a contestant to spit an answer.

He’s sure neither of them know how long they stand there, Steve not forcing his hand quite yet. There’s protocols and the like for individuals who make a rough go of it, but Steve often feels a little too nice to take those measures if he can do his best to coax everyone to follow directions.

After enough time has passed, and just when Steve is about to throw in the rag and try other bargaining tools, Mr. Hargrove’s fingers twitch, shoulders slumping as he angles himself properly. “Hand me the damn cups.”

Steve obliges, not saying a word least that propel the man’s decision to cooperate in another direction. With a watchful gaze, Steve makes sure that Mr. Hargrove swallows his pills, hands him the water when he’s got them in his mouth and breathes as evenly as he can in order to avoid further suspicion of his relief.

When he’s done with them both, he hands the cups back to Steve with another grunt, an aborted noise of dissatisfaction escaping past his lips.

“I’ll be back later for lunch,” Steve says gently against the noise of cheering. Blinking away from a stony face, it’s the first time he sees the television for what it is. A bunch of cars on a track racing in circles and counting down laps. “Call if you need anything.”

The cups give way in his hands, crumbling under the pressure of a curled fist. Steve doesn’t wait for a reply, and truth be told, he knows better than to. His shoes squeak as he walks across the tile and through the door, discarding the cups in the trash near the front desk. The file cabinet is already halfway open by the time he makes his way around the counter, Robin rolling back to position and paying him no mind.

Deep down, Steve’s okay. The draft from a room filled with contempt is stifling, but at least it’s another day for the books. At the very least, he can take that and run with it.

“Some motherfucker always has the nerve to take my damn parking spot.”

Robin’s ponytail swings in a fluttery mess of golden-brown, and Steve finds the map of freckles highlighted across her face from the hues of light cascading through the open blinds as she tilts her head.

“If you’d learn to be on time, dingus, then maybe you wouldn’t have a problem.”

“I’d argue that you’re doing it on purpose, but I know that’s not it. It’s not your car.” Steve removes the jacket from his shoulders, shaking the left sleeve until it slowly crawls down his arm. It’s an annoying thing he finds with the uniforms they have to wear; they cling to everything, and he finds that he gets stuck in clothes more often than he’s able to take them all off.

The jacket goes on the coat rack, Steve dropping into the second chair behind the desk. It’s early in the morning, and the crew on the overnight shift hasn’t yet left. Steve hears them shuffling about, gathering things that need to be cleaned and dumping the overnight trash into the bins.

“Hey, did you ever find out-”

“Fuck you, old man.”

Robin’s eyes meet Steve’s, going wide as her mouth slowly closes, silencing the question on her tongue. There’s more muffled comments that Steve can’t quite make out, but it drifts down the hall. It’s an argument if he’s ever heard one, and the hairs on his arm raise from the exaggerated scenarios running through his head.

They have protocol for unruly patients, but the most they’ve ever been instructed to do with possible visitors is call the police. Steve scans the reception area and finds no phone readily available. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he asks with a shoulder shrug.

Robin gives him a look, sighing. Her body isn’t rigid likes Steve, and he guesses that maybe she’s not been on the other end of a yelling match. That isn’t to say Steve enjoys them much, but his father has a way with words.

As he’s thinking, Robin brushes past him, startling him. Reaching out, he gentle grasps her wrist. “Let me handle it.”

Pointedly, she takes a look at his temple, the little scar left over from when he got into it with Tommy in senior year. Robin had been witness to it, played nurse and made him sit through the pain of the alcohol she’d used to wipe up the blood and clean the cut.

To avoid further conflict, and because there’s still deep voices resonated from down the hall, Steve pulls the puppy eyes that practically gets him anything he wants. Robin, normally immune, hesitates as she looks back. It’s cute, he thinks, that someone is actually worried for his safety. That’s still a thing he’s not use to, but he tugs at her wrist as he stands up, positions himself in front of her and smiles. “I’ve got it. Don’t worry.”

He feels like those are famous last words. Not that he actually believes in harms way, but Steve has seen patients act out or have episodes that leave people with scratches and pretty bruises. It’s not their fault, he knows; old age is nothing that he can outrun, but a body in distress isn’t always the easiest to handle.

He leaves Robin there, notices her sit back down out of the corner of his eye, and he’s relieved for that. Usually she’s the type to follow, always has Steve’s back in whatever dumb shit he’s trying to do, but truth be told, he’s been hurt far more than she has, and well, Steve has always been a bit of a mother hen.

As he walks down the hall, the voices become clearer until there’s nothing left. Steve, as he’d been listening this morning to the scrape of employee shoes on the floor, finds that there’s a much deeper set of footsteps amidst the others. When he pauses, peering into every room as he walks in case something is off, a door at the end of the hall opens. It catches his attention immediately with the force of the swing.

Dread immediately fills his body.

There’s a pair of boots on the floor, accompanied by legs in jeans. Steve trails his gaze up, following the shape of a human body leaving Neil Hargrove’s room.

Neil never has guests.

He’s blond. That’s the first thing Steve takes notice of. Untamed curly hair. Thick brows. Pink lips. The list goes on really, and Steve bits the inside of his cheek to bring himself back into focus. Into the real meaning of why he’s standing in the middle of the hall like an idiot while he tries to figure out who the fuck this man is, and how he knows Neil of all people.

When Steve focuses again, the man with no name is leaning against the wall just outside the door, runs his hands through those curls. There’s a tick in his jaw, unreleased tension building in the way he holds himself—in the slope of his shoulders, in the way his fingers tap against his jeans like he’s itching for something to do.

A good amount of time passes, lost in thought, lost in a hallway with no indication of time sifting through the ether. Steve stands there, and the man stays there until they both gain composure, Steve only moving when his companion pushes himself away from the wall.

As soon as he turns, he spots Steve. It’s kinda hard to miss him when he’s in turquoise scrubs against a yellow backdrop of nursing home walls. There’s the initial pause that comes, the startling thought of being caught so intimately, and then the inevitable change of facial features into one of pure anger.

Steve might’ve fucked up on this one.

His throat works, thick with saliva and unable to churn out the words he needs to bring help to a situation that had deescalated but might shift in reverse any second. The furrow in the other man’s brow creases, eyes glassy but hard, akin to a stone caricature. It’s like a gunslinger’s battle just without the weapons, and Steve feels his pulse escalating until it drops, suddenly.

Like a balloon bursting, the man licks the front of his teeth, smiles in the most dangerous way and continues down the hall like nothing happened at all.

Steve catches a glimpse of him as he passes. Pretty blue eyes and a chain around his neck. The denim jacket smells like subtle cologne, and before he has a chance to ask, the sound of heavy boots are disappearing.

The decision to run after him or go check on Mr. Hargrove is difficult. It’s obligations on both ends of the spectrum, but at the end of the day, it’s Neil that lives here so Steve shakes his head to unstir his thoughts until he’s planted in front of an open door and a bare room with nothing but someone inside.

Neil is in his wheelchair today rather than his bed. Steve would take it has a good sign if it weren’t for the way he’s got his leg stretched out in front of him. There’s the thought that maybe his visitor had done something wrong, busted up the knee and left behind pain, but Neil gives him a look that shuts him up, reminiscent of blue eyes who’d argued to speak his mind.

“Get the fuck out,” he grumbles in reply, reaching for the remote. The television isn’t so loud this time, doesn’t bounce off the walls like he’s used to. Steve doesn’t listen, not until Neil flips through the channels and settles on his station of choice.

It’s always the cars. Always the stupid cars on the track. The numbers counting down and Steve unaware of the rules of the game.

He suspects that Neil is fine, would probably bitch at him if he wasn’t. So Steve says, “let me know if you need anything,” and is just about to step out when Neil huffs out laughter.

At first, it sounds like it’s aimed at him. Steve feels that tell-tale leak of shame in his chest for wanting to be helpful and productive, but the flicker of the tv screen changes his mind in an instant.

It’s not just cars anymore. It’s a list of drivers with their sponsors and their numbers, and Steve can’t miss it for the world. Couldn’t if he tried.

Number 61 has vivid blue eyes. Curly blond hair, and a self-deprecating smirk that rings all too familiar.

#x #billy hargrove #harringrove #sort of #this fic should really be multi-chaptered but it came from a HC i had and this is the fleshed out version #so here we are so uh yeah billy aint in it much but like u kno #guess what billy's occupation is!!!!!!!!!!!!#lmao i didn't do it on purpose actually billy didn't have anything until the idea came to me randomly #so thanks brain for that super helpful

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anothers-trash-my-treasure · 5 years

Text

Bittersweet - Chapter Five.

Ho-ho-holy shit y’all. It’s here. I’ve done it. I really hope it doesn’t take me this long to get out the next one, sorry it was such a wait but as I’ve said before I hate forcing myself to write. I only want to produce quality content for you guys. As always, feedback is appreciated

Pairing: Merriell Shelton / Reader (femme)

Warnings: uuhhh swearing, angst, mentions of sexual activity

Word Count: 2080 *it’s kind of short sorry*

Tag List: @elliotmercury @r-ahh-mi @the-almond-dinger @ahkmenrami1205 @itsme690 @xoa-lex @kpopperotp12 @malek-lover

Let me know if you want to be tagged or if I forgot to tag anyone I’m sorry, I have a bad memory, just remind me and I’ll actually write it down lol.

The rest of the week goes by way too quickly.

Anytime Merriell isn’t working, he’s showing Chloe and I around New Orleans, sometimes inviting Eugene along with us, sometimes not. We’ll do sightseeing activities during the day and hit up the local bars at night. I learn quickly that Eugene acts as Merriell’s voice of reason, quickly talking him out of bad ideas or compromising situations. Compromising situations that seem to happen if he’s not there. Compromising situations such as pulling me into a bathroom stall and making good on all the filthy promises he whispers in my ear during the night.

That being said, I can’t help but notice that every time Eugene and Mer are alone, they seem to dip into what looks to be a very heated discussion. I watched as Eugene seemingly lecture Merriell on something, his eyes locked firmly and sternly on the man I have come to care so much for over the past two weeks. However, anytime I began to walk back to the table Merriell would dismiss the conversation with a wave of his hand and a shrug in favour of shooting me a signature smile.

Along the same lines, every time Chloe and I were away from the boys, she’d rope me into the same conversation.

“So,” She starts, “did you talk to him yet?”

I sigh, sliding the bartender my money for the drink and bringing it up for a drink, “No I haven’t.”

“Y/n,” she says sternly and I know she has a whole speech prepared, so I cut her off before she can start.

“I’m going to, Chloe. But it’s not really something I can bring up around you or Eugene.

“So do it alone.” She says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

I shrug, taking a sip of my drink before smirking devilishly, “Kind of hard to bring up other topics when I’m busy screaming his name.”

I laugh maniacally as she almost spits out her drink and attempts to glare at me, although I can tell she’s holding back a laugh.

“I’m serious,” She says after I’ve calmed down, “You need to talk to him about what’s going to happen when we leave.”

“I know,” I say honestly my eyes easily finding Merriell in the crowded bar. His head turns and he meets my gaze, quirks a smile and turns back to his conversation, “and I will, I’m just waiting for the right time.”

Eventually, I run out of time. The last night spent in New Orleans comes quickly and is quite tame. Chloe and I had decided that being hungover on a lord only knows how long flight tomorrow would not be ideal, so we opted for a movie night in. Chloe had long since fallen asleep on the couch, so Mer and I moved into my bedroom to finish the movie on my laptop.

My eyes are on the screen, but my mind is elsewhere. It’s clouded with unanswered questions, doubts and concerns. Merriell’s chest is solid beneath my head, solid like so many things right now aren’t. Our relationship, however short it’s been, had become a constant. Something that had filled my days with nothing but good memories. It had felt solid. But now, as reality comes creeping back up to me with every second passing by, counting down to the dreaded flight home, I am quickly realizing that it’s not. I have come so accustomed to being with him. Talking, laughing, getting to know each other, it’s stupid to think I am already so invested in this ‘relationship’ that the mere thought of not being in contact with him anymore puts a pain in my chest I can’t even begin to explain.

I desperately want to postpone this conversation, to not have to ruin our last night together by bringing up the concept of ‘defining the relationship’. My mind runs over almost every possible outcome.

Best case scenario; He doesn’t want to let me go, we continue the relationship long-distance. I feel myself smile a bit at the thought of this one. My mind plays out fantasy scenarios, a series of storylines in which he surprises me at Uni after a stressful week of exams, or I surprise him on my reading breaks. I think about how hard it would be, yes, long distance sucks, but I also think about the late night face times and goofy snapchats. The thought of us fighting to keep this, this relationship that just feels so right, alive despite all odds, has my heart fluttering in hope that it’s is the outcome of this conversation.

As for the worst case scenario, well I did say I thought of almost all the outcomes. The truth is, I can’t bring myself to think about the worst case. Even though it very well could be a possible outcome. More so than the first one. My eyes fall to the time stamp on the screen, realizing there’s only so much time left and despite only knowing Mer a short while, I know that as soon as the credits start, he’ll be out like a light. It’s now or never.

“Mer?” I ask timidly, my voice small and barely above a whisper. Confrontation is not my strong suit, but I’ll go crazy if this conversation doesn’t happen.

He hums sleepily, hand coming up to rub circles on my back to show he’s listening.

There’s a heavy feeling in my chest as I utter my next question, like a ton of bricks, making it a little hard to breathe.

“Do you...” I start before changing my mind, biting my lip as anxiety rises up from the pit of my stomach, “What are we?”

I feel his body tense below me, hand freezing mid-circle on my back. It’s silent for a few moments before he clears his throat.

“What do you mean?”

I sigh, pushing the laptop away and bringing myself into a sitting position, “C’mon, you haven’t played dumb with me yet, don’t start now.” I force myself to look at him, “What are we? I leave in less than 12 hours, I need to know....” I trail off, “Where this is going.” I finish, my eyes searching his face for any sort of reaction.

He chews on his bottom lip, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I-” He stutters, sitting up further, “I thought we were jus’ having fun.” He shrugs.

There’s a pain in my chest at that. While yes, I understand why he would think that, this was never meant to be anything more than a brief summer fling, I’m still hurt that while I was letting myself daydream about long-distance relationships and surprise visits, he was counting down the days until I left and he could move on with the regularly scheduled program.

“Well,” I start, moving my gaze from him to focus on my fingers that are currently trying to tie and untie themselves into knots, “I guess we were. I mean, it was fun, right? But I just- I thought it was- and maybe it was different for you but on your end...” I sigh heavily, “I feel like there could be something really special here.”

It’s quiet after that. Both of us sitting across from each other, staring at the space between. It’s quiet for too long, and the longer he doesn’t say anything, the more I can feel my heart dropping. Despite the deafening silence, there’s still a glimmer of hope in my chest that maybe, just maybe, he’ll feel the same. Maybe, for once, someone will think I’m worth the hassle.

It’s been silent for too long.

“Is that...” I stop the ‘is that okay’ from leaving my lips, realizing there’s nothing wrong with my feelings for Merriell, “Are you gonna say something?” I ask instead.

His eyes flick up to meet mine, they’re unreadable. I’m unable to see what he’s thinking or feeling and it irks me. I’ve been able to read him so easily these past few weeks. Why is he hiding?

He shrugs, “What do you want me ta’ say?”

His tone takes me by surprise, it’s clipped and tense and almost angry sounding. It’s not what I was expecting and as a result, I am speechless. I don’t have an answer for him, so I just stare back at him. His eyes are cold and intense on me, unblinking.

“Want me ta say that I’ll follow ya to the ends of the earth or some shit? It’s only been two weeks.”

“I know that Merriell but-”

“But what? Ya love me?” He scoffs, “Right, like a girl like you could actually love me.”

His gaze breaks from mine as he gets out of the bed, beginning to pace and run his hands through his curls, wincing when it gets caught on a kink. I can’t even begin to unpack that, does he not deem himself worthy of my affection? Does he not see how incredibly crazy about him I am? I can do nothing but watch him, feeling more confused than ever.

He mutters softly to himself, “God Shelton, what the hell did you get yourself into this time?”

It’s my turn to scoff, “Well, fuck Merriell, I didn’t think whatever this is was such an inconvenience for you.”

“That’s not what I said.” he says, pointing a finger at me, “Don’t twist my words like that.”

“Okay, Okay,” I say, holding my hands up, “let’s just- take a breather here.”

He nods, taking a deep breath. I can see his thoughts spinning, trying to find an answer to my original question. I take a breath, trying once again to find the words for my feelings. I adjust my position on the bed, moving so my legs are over the edge, before speaking.

“Yes; we’ve only known each other for two weeks. I don’t expect you to uproot your whole life for me, I never expected that from you and I never will.” I start carefully, “I don’t know what I feel for you but I know... that it’s easy with you.” I stutter, words getting caught in my throat, “It’s easy to talk and to just be me. And I don’t know about you but that doesn’t happen very often for me.”

His hands bury themselves in the pocket of his sweatpants as his gaze flicks back to me, hanging on to my every word. He looks like a child, his eyes wide and filled with an unreadable expression, his hair an unruly mess on the top of his head. He makes no move to speak so I continue.

“If you don’t want to see me after I leave, that’s fine.” I swallow nervously, “But I think it’d be a shame though, to let something that comes so easy, go to waste.” It’s quiet for a beat. Until he laughs, a little hysterically, running his hands through his hair again, “Look, this wasn’t supposed ta’ be anythin’ more than a fling.”

My eyes narrow at that, “I know that-”

“Well if ya know that, then maybe you should loosen the reins a little.”

And then it’s quiet again, the only sound being the soft music of a title sequence and our breathing. A range of emotions spread in my chest; ranging from anger to hurt to frustration. I want desperately to understand why he’s reacting this way. Why he’s so angry and defensive when all I’m asking him boils down to is wanting to still communicate with him after I leave the state. I want to defuse the situation, try again and approach the conversation from a different angle.

All we do is stare at each other. The air thick with tension.

“I gotta get out of here.”

Panic surges up inside me, watching helplessly as he grabs his sweater off the floor and tugging it on before opening my bedroom door and walking out. I follow him; flinging myself off the bed. One glance to the couch tells me Chloe’s gone to her own room.

“Merriell-” I start, half reaching for him, trying desperately to get him to stay; to fix this. My hands dangle mid-air, not knowing what to do.

“I just- I gotta do some thinkin’ I’ll meet you at the airport tomorrow, just text me when you leave.”

And then with a slam of the door, he’s gone. Leaving me confused and dejected, wondering how the hell I got myself into this mess.

Part six

#rami malek #rami malek fic #Rami Malek Trash #Merriell Shelton #Merriell Snafu Shelton #merriell shelton x reader #merriell shelton/reader #Snafu Shelton #snafu x reader #snafu shelton x reader #snafu

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namjuicyy · 5 years

Text

The Contract - Chapter Two

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Fluff.

Word Count: 2.2k.

Summary: Your life is turned upside down when a contract is pushed your way. But what happens if you sign it?

Warnings: None.

South Korea was always freezing during the winter. The snowfall was almost constant, and though it always painted a pretty picture outside of your bedroom window, it had become an inconvenience to you. Especially when you'd first moved to Seoul and just wanted to get on with it. But Seoul residents were more than used to it. In fact, it wasn't even a novelty for them. And you quickly joined them in wrapping up warm from the bitter weather and learning how to walk with ease on fresh sheets of snow.

You didn't live too far from Big Hit, your place of work. A request made by your boss who had paid for your apartment. He wanted to make sure you were always easily on hand just in case you were needed to give the artists a quick face of makeup. And, you were one of the best. No one knew how you did it, but you always managed to make the boys look ethereal - well, more than usual anyway. And though fans didn't know it was you, they certainly appreciated your work. As did BTS themselves. You quickly became in charge in the makeup room, and, unlike some of the other artists, you weren't assigned to a member in particular. You loved your job, and you loved the people around you who made your job special. You also loved BTS, and not because of their fame, but because they were amazing guys who made you feel like one in a million. They were so sweet and lovely to you constantly, and you adored them with every bone in your body.

The snow crunched underneath you, not that you noticed, as your ears were filled with your music. Your noise-cancelling headphones doubled as a pair of earmuffs, protecting you from the bitterness surrounding you, in more ways than one. Gloved hands opened the door to the office building, kicking the snow off your boots and trudging your way across the bright, shiny floors.

Manager Sejin's office was on the second floor, just above the boys' recording studios. He had the smallest of all the offices at his own request. He much preferred working outside of the office, in café's, or even alongside the boys. He was the kindest of all their managers, the most genuine. The one who cared the most about the boys welfare. Though you didn't have a lot to do with the managers, or the musicians you weren't painting the faces of.

You sat in the chair opposite him, the desk in between the middle of you, making this feel like a very formal meeting. Though, with Sejin, meetings were never usually formal. He was such a kind-hearted, happy-go-lucky person, he just preferred informal situations and would often have meetings where everyone would just hang out and have a laugh. But the seriousness in Sejin's tone and on his face made you a little uncomfortable, and nervous truth be told.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, wondering if your job was still yours.

"Everything's fine." Sejin replied calmly. "I actually have a proposition for you."

Sejin began to explain the situation at hand, as gently and delicately as he could without scaring you too much. Truth be told, you were an asset to the company and he couldn't risk you leaving. You were irreplaceable. You were trustworthy, both with the staff and with the band. You were kind, and hard working. You loved your job and were pretty much worth every penny the company spent on you. But the guys wanted you. Not that they knew it was you they wanted, but they wanted you. He couldn't lose you - Shihyuk and Bangtan would have his neck.

You couldn't lie, you had heard of this arrangement before. Many of your friends in the industry who worked for other bands had often talked about how their clients would share a person. Though, that was all you knew. You didn't care to look into it, nor did you have an opinion on it. It was just something that happened within K-Pop that seemed to be consensual and something that you'd never find yourself involved in. Well, you thought as much anyway. But there you were, in Manager Sejin's office with the words coming out of his mouth basically asking you to spread your legs for seven men, and get paid really well for it. You were, according to your own mind, going to be a high-class prostitute. And you weren't entirely sure whether you should be offended or not.

"You don't have to make a decision right away," Sejin continued, "and of course, if you don't want to do it, you don't have to. It was just a suggestion."

"Would you find someone else if I refused?"

"We'd try. But no one fits the guys like you do."

"Could I have a few days to think about this?"

"Of course, take as much time as you need."

You left Sejin's office and took a walk in the snow. Your mind was racing with thoughts and the proposition that Sejin had just given you. You couldn't quite believe that this was a scenario you found yourself in. Sejin had told you that, if you accepted, you'd be moving in with the guys. You'd still be their makeup artist, you'd be living with them, and you'd have all the power in the relationships. You would dictate what did and didn't happen. It was all down to you. If at any time you wanted to pull out, the contract would allow you to do so. And the guys were so sweet, and incredibly kind, and they wouldn't ever hurt you. You knew that because they never had in the first place. You cared about them and you knew that they cared about you.

But in the back of your mind, there was this nagging feeling telling you that you should be doing this, purely because of what it was that Sejin had said. If you couldn't do it, they'd try and find someone else who would. Who would that person be? Would they make the guys happy? Would she be trustworthy? Would she find a way to screw them over without getting into trouble? Would she pit the guys against each other and ruin what they have? No, you couldn't allow that. You'd been their makeup artist for years and you'd developed quite the relationship with them. And if anything bad happened it would be on you.

But would you be able to do that for them? Would you be able to take care of them in that way? To love them on demand? To be at their beckon call? To lie with them when they needed you to? Would you be able to ruin your relationship for the sake of a nice apartment and a few extra noughts on your pay-check?

"Oh, hey ___-ah."

The sound of a familiar voice pulled you out of your mind, snapping your head up from the ground to the face staring at you with nothing but gentility in his eyes. Jung Hoseok. Hobi was such a sweet guy. So kind and thoughtful, and incredibly funny too. He had a beautiful smile that was so infectious, and a personality that made you instantly happy. When you first met him, he wasn't exactly in the best of moods - one of the few times you'd seen the non-happy side of him. He was, honestly, terrifying. He was tall and stern and made your knees buckle in a way that made you feel like you were a child again. Even to this day, he still intimidates you occasionally, but for the most part he had this radiating sense of warmth that instantly cooled and relaxed you. His nose was red where it had been bitten from the cold. Cute. You thought.

"What are you doing out and about in this weather?" Hobi asked you when you didn't respond to his greeting.

"Oh... um... just thinking."

"You seem to be doing it pretty hard. Do you have five minutes? Maybe you could think out loud at me while we sit down in a café with a warm cup of something?"

You nodded. You don't know why you nodded but you did, and ended up taking his gloved hand and being lead to a small coffee shop. Hobi wouldn't let you pay for the drinks. He almost let his intimidating side out and forced you to sit down, shrinking into your coat to hide from his hard stare. He brought the two mugs of hot chocolate to the table, sat opposite you and refused to take his eyes off your face while you were gearing up to confide in him.

"Talk to me." He implored softly. "What's on your mind?"

"I don't know if it would be appropriate."

"You're worrying me. Please talk to me. If it's what you're going to say that you're worried about, you could always change details. Say it's not happening to you."

You nodded. "Okay." You sighed and looked away from Hobi. "A... friend of mine... just had an opportunity pushed her way from one of her bosses."

"Oh? That's good."

"Well, it depends on how you look at it. She was asked to get involved in an arrangement with some of her clients that wouldn't be altogether... appropriate. And though she can see the good points of taking the opportunity, she can also see the horrific bad points, too. And she doesn't know what to do."

Hobi sighed. He looked a little sad behind the warmth in his eyes. "Sejin asked you, huh?"

"He did."

"Well, he had a good choice, I can give him that. We're all insanely fond of you." He took a sip of his drink. He grabbed hold of your hand and forced you to look at his face as he spoke. He needed you to know how genuine he was. "We don't want to force you into this. We respect you and care about you too much for you to be put in any kind of uncomfortable situation, and whatever you decide, all seven of us will support you one hundred per cent. You are our top priority. You and your happiness. Of course, if you agree to it we would be over the moon. But if not we completely understand. I don't want you getting hurt." He pulled your hand to his lips and gave it a quick peck, like some prince would do to his betrothed. Hobi really was a charmer. His incredible good looks and his kind personality was enough to make any woman swoon and fall prey to his charms. You were no exception.

Hobi hadn't really said anything in the way of giving you advice. He just gave you his opinion and it made you feel good somehow. He stayed with you and talked to you for a long time, as he often did when he found you in a bit of a slump. And, unknowingly for him, he had just made up your mind for you.

Hoseok walked into the apartment, throwing his shoes on the floor and leaving his coat to de-snow beside them as he rushed into the living room. It wasn't as crowded as it usually was, given that Yoongi was out and Taehyung was off doing God knows what. But the rest of them were all staring at Hobi, looking incredibly confused as to why he ran into the living room like a bull in a china shop.

"It's ___." He announced breathlessly. "Sejin chose ___ to be our girlfriend."

To say some of the guys were a little shocked was an understatement. Though they adored you, they never imagined you would be the woman Sejin chose.

"How do you know?" Jungkook asked his Hyung.

"I just bumped into her. She was so torn. She didn't know whether to accept it or not."

Namjoon, "Wait, she was considering it?"

"She was. I've never seen her so distracted."

Jimin, "I'm glad Sejin asked her though." Everyone looked at Jimin. "What? We said we wanted to go through with this, and she is the perfect choice. She's gorgeous, inside and out. And I'd be happy to see more of her."

Jin, "You're such a fucking pervert."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Sure."

Jungkook, "What do you think she's going to do, Hyung?"

Hoseok shook his head. "I honestly don't know. I told her that we'd support her decision no matter what and that nothing would change between us really, but I don't know."

Jimin, "Well, I hope she agrees to it. And I know a lot of you do, too."

Namjoon nodded. "I do as well."

Jin laughed. "Jungkook does."

Jungkook didn't verbally oppose his hyung. However, he did stand up and smack his shoulder a few times as payback for his insolence. Everyone laughed, but when that died down, there was an underlying tone. Worry, concern. Excitement. They couldn't quite believe that they were still going through with this.

You arrived back in Sejin's office with a gentle knock at the door. Sejin was incredibly surprised to see you so soon. But the look on your face told him a little of what he needed to know.

"How can I help you, dearest?" He asked cheerily.

"I'm in."

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dragonologist-phd · 5 years

Text

Just A Name

Time for another @pillarspromptsweekly prompt fill! This one’s for #98, Reputation, featuring an adventurer I made and my headcanon on how he came to meet the Watcher. It’s not *exactly* what the prompt intended, but I like the idea too much to let it go. Read below or here on AO3!

Magnus had never been a Watcher before.

He’d been quite a few things in his travels. Each self-given title had its ups and downs. Fortune-teller was a good one for making some coin. He’d always had a talent for telling people what they wanted to hear, and as long as the locals weren’t too superstitious it was relatively conflict-free.

Being a priest was easy- his face did the half job already, and all he had to do was spout off a few prayers to Berath. Not as much fun, usually, but useful. Authorities didn’t question holy workers quite as much as they did magicians and street tricksters, and he could always count on faithful civilians to make a place for him at their dinner table.

In his brief time in the Republics, he’d even been a Cipher. That one was the hardest, despite being the truth. People expected things of Ciphers, as if being born with these powers meant Magnus owed the world some sort of special service. But Magnus had no intention of being anybody’s lackey- or worse, their science experiment.

And besides, Magnus liked the act of weaving together a new story for himself with each town he visited. It kept things interesting. And this new title of Watcher that was buzzing in the minds of the Dyrwoodans was nothing if not interesting.

It began in a town on the northwest border of the Dyrwood. Magnus had been moving through the streets, trying to keep a low profile. He hadn’t decided just yet who he would be in this new country. From the surface thoughts he gathered in the town square, anything resembling animancy was out of the question. There was a strong Berathian following here- perhaps he should dust off that old story…

“The Watcher!” someone nearby gasped, and suddenly Magnus was surrounded by a group of wide-eyed onlookers.

“You are the Watcher, aren’t you?” The man who spoke approached tentatively. “We don’t get too many godlike in these parts. But we heard about what you did!”

Magnus hesitated. He didn’t know what in the world a Watcher was supposed to be, but the words weren’t hostile. In fact, the man was staring down at him with something close to awe. Gathering himself into a confident stance, Magnus strode forward and grasped the man’s hand in greeting.

As their skin made contact, the man’s thoughts increased from shadowy whispers to full memories, crisp and clear. A rumor- no, a legend. The hero of Gilded Vale. The foreigner who stormed Raedric’s castle and slew the awful tyrant. The godlike who reads your soul with a glance. The Watcher.

It all flashed through Magnus’s mind in an instant, and he grinned. “Aye, my friend. I’m the Watcher.”

The façade was not foolproof, of course. It wasn’t maintaining the illusion of Watcher abilities that caused trouble. Most of the backwood locals wouldn’t be able to tell a cipher from a Watcher given a million years.

But Magnus had to be careful of where he traveled. He couldn’t follow directly in this Watcher’s trail- nobody who had met the genuine thing would be fooled for an instant. But he had to stay in their shadow, close enough that rumors of great deeds had reached people who were only too happy to show their gratitude in gifts and lodging.

Over time, he picked up a bit more information, although it was hard even for him to separate the truth from the exaggerations. The Watcher is a giant, they said, which was inconvenient because Magnus stood just under five feet, but at least his horns gave him the impression of being taller. The Watcher is a mighty warrior, they said, and Magnus had carry a sword to look the part while explaining that he’d recently had an unfortunate injury and could not give a demonstration of his skills. The Watcher is green, they said, and Magnus lost his patience and gave their memories a mental push until they said No, wait, I heard the Watcher is purple after all.

It was more work than Magnus usually put into a story, but it was worth it. Because whoever this Watcher was, they were earning the love of people in every corner of the Dyrwood. They drove away bandits and settled restless spirits and killed all manner of beasts. They were a hero, according to the stories, although Magnus very much doubted they were as noble and benevolent in real life.

But he wasn’t going to be the one to tell the villagers that. So long as the Watcher was a hero, Magnus was, too.

“Please! You have to help!”

Magnus cringed and pulled away from the woman. This was his own damn fault- he’d lingered in this village too long, enjoying the welcome and generosity he hadn’t earned. Now he was expected to earn it.

His weak excuses about an injury were ignored. “You just have to find her! She’s so young, she can’t have wandered far, you just have to find her before nightfall! Before-” the woman’s words dissolved into a choked sob, but her thoughts screamed loudly enough for Magnus to understand. A little girl, lost in the woods, at night, it gets so cold, the spiders come out when it gets dark, why did she go by herself?

Damn it all, why did it have to be a kid?

Magnus sighed, knowing he was going to regret this later. “I’ll take a look, okay?”

The woman beamed through her tears, hope blooming in her mind. “Oh, thank you!”

“Don’t mention it,” Magnus grumbled. “Apparently, it’s what I do.”

Best case scenario, Magnus would find the kid and drag her home before night fell. Then he would hightail it out of this village before anybody asked him to do anything else.

Worst case scenario, he’d get eaten by spiders tonight. Magnus was trying not to think too hard on that one.

The distraught mother seemed to think Magnus would be able to track her daughter’s using Watcher sense or some such nonsense. Magnus wasn’t sure that was how it worked, but he hoped that sweeping the forest for any trace of the girl’s mind would suffice. When he finally caught track of some thoughts, however, they were not those of a frightened child.

Searching. Worried. Child in danger, fraud out here somewhere. Wait is that-

And then a wall went up, strong and solid. Magnus could still sense a presence, but the actual thoughts were blocked. He had just enough time to worry about what that meant when suddenly his path through the woods was blocked by a towering woman with leaves on her skin and a mace in her hand.

“Ah, there you are,” she said with a grin. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

“And who are you?” Magnus asked nervously, although even without his cipher powers he already knew.

“I’m the Watcher of Caed Nua.”

The Watcher- or Desta, as she later introduced herself- did not immediately smash Magnus with her mace, for which he was grateful. But that didn’t mean she was happy with him.

“How long did you think you could away with this for?” she demanded as they traipsed through the woods. “You had to know eventually someone would figure out you’re not me.”

“Why, because you’re six-foot tall woman who looks like a tree and I’m a dwarf-blooded man with death-face?” Magnus waved his hand dismissively. “People see what they want to see. I didn’t even have to do that much persuading.”

“You mean brainwashing,” Desta corrected crossly. “Which is a horrible thing to do to people. And what I meant was you’re clearly not equipped to do the sort of things I do. You had to expect your lies to catch up with you.”

Magnus shrugged. “This may shock you, but I don’t typically plan that far ahead. I was just hoping you’d be too busy slaying dragons and whatnot to track me down.”

Desta wasn’t amused. “You’re right about one thing- I’m very busy these days. Which is why it’s especially irritating to hear that someone is going around trying to profit off of my name.”

“Ah, it’s just a name,” Magnus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “There’s plenty of those to go around. But if it’s any consolation, you can keep it from now on. Being an adventurer is all well and good when you’re in a tavern and people are buying you drinks. Actually adventuring is not my style.”

“Then why are you here?” Desta eyed Magnus thoughtfully, and for a moment he wondered if she was doing her Watcher-soul-reading thing on him. “Is this still part of the act?”

For once, Magnus didn’t have quick retort. He just shrugged again. “A kid’s missing. I’ll own up to being a lying bastard, but I’m not a complete scumbag.”

Desta made a thoughtful noise, then peered up at the sky. “Speaking of, it’s starting to get dark. Are you sure we’re heading in the right direction?”

Magnus nodded. “I don’t know souls, but I know minds. Hers is close by.”

An hour later, Magnus and Desta emerged from the cave, the rescued little girl sleeping soundly in Desta’s arms as Magnus trailed behind and tried to shake the spider blood off his boots. He’d been uninvolved in the actual fighting, thankfully, but Desta hadn’t been very considerate of his attire when slaughtering the things.

As they neared the edge of the village, Magnus stopped and gave Desta a small bow. “This is where I take my leave. Don’t worry- I’ve had enough of being a Watcher. You won’t have to worry about me again.”

“Hold on, there!” Desta said quickly, and Magnus winced. He’d been hoping to make a quick and graceful exit, but he should have known that wouldn’t happen. “I haven’t decided if I’m letting you go.”

“What’s the alternative?” Magnus asked, trying not so sound nervous. He didn’t think Desta was likely to try and kill him, but he still couldn’t get into her mind to be sure.

In answer, the Watcher turned and stared at him with an expression that soon grew distant and blank. Magnus frowned and shifted awkwardly on his feet as he waited. Was this what Watcher stuff was supposed to look like? He hadn’t taken the ‘reading souls’ thing too seriously before- now he wondered just what it was Desta saw. His personality? His past?

Whatever it was Desta saw, she didn’t say. She simply blinked a few times, regained her senses, and patted Magnus on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I suppose I could try to arrest you, but you’d just bust out of jail, wouldn’t you?”

Magnus was surprised by her joking tone, but he wasn’t going to complain. “Heh. I do have some experience with jailbreaks.”

“I know.” Desta tilted her head, thinking. “You can leave, if you wish. But no more pretending to be me. And…I think tou should come back to the village with us, and tell the people the truth.”

That made Magnus laugh. “Thanks, but I’ve been run out of enough towns. I prefer a quiet disappearance.”

“People can surprise you. You did help with the rescue mission, after all.”

She actually sounded like she believed it, but still Magnus shook his head. “I think I’ve just about worn out the Dyrwood’s welcome. Time for me to be moving on.”

Desta looked disappointed, but she didn’t offer any further protests. “I won’t stop you, I suppose. But if you’re tired of traveling, there’s always room at Caed Nua. And you won’t even have to lie about who you are.”

“I…” Magnus wanted to tell this woman that she was crazy, that being able to lie about himself was a good thing. That the world was already hard enough for godlikes and hard enough for ciphers and hard enough for runaways, and why would anyone want to be all three at the same time if they didn’t have to?

Instead, he said, “I’ll consider it.” Because, hey. Free food. Free lodging. Who was he to pass that up? “But later. First, you need to get Shorty here back to her mom.”

After bidding Desta farewell, Magnus turned to the north, pondering his next destination. Perhaps he’d visit Caed Nua eventually, but for now it was time to take his leave of the Dyrwood. The choice felt right, but it did leave him in an unfortunate position. It would be a few days’ journey to the border, and with winter setting in he would want a nice place to rest soon.

And the next village over already knew him as the Watcher, kind and protective defender of the Dyrwood. On more night of the masquerade wouldn’t hurt.

After all, it really was just a name.

#poe fanfic #fanfic #my writing #desta has a whole crew of godlike adventurers in deadfire #i just really love making godlike #and magnus is a favorite of mine because hes such a little shit #magnus #desta #fic: desta #pillars of eternity #pillars prompts weekly

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sweetness47 · 5 years

Text

Hate

Pairing Sam x reader

For @samwinchesterbingo

square filled: enemies to lovers

WARNINGS!!!! LANGUAGE, SOME SMUT, VERBAL NAME CALLING, REJECTION IMPLIED, ABO DYNAMICS 18+ READERS ONLY

Hate is a powerful emotion, one that can have dire consequences. Except in my case. Well, I guess I would have to explain better, since I sound like a complete blonde.

So, I’m a hunter, and I have on occasion found myself paired with the infamous Winchester brothers. Not that I mind, well more specifically, I don’t always mind. They are great hunters, and they always have my back and I will always have theirs when we are on a case. But buddy wise?

Dean and I get along great. I join him at the bar when he goes, we joke, banter, and he treats me like family. He’s like the brother I never had. He’s like the perfect gentleman, opening doors for me, making sure I get home safe, chasing away unwanted visitors at the bar. Like I said, family.

Then there’s Sam. He’s so fucking annoying. Yeah I said he’s good when we’re working a case, but outside of work? Forget it. He whines when I have to bunk in the same room as them, or when Dean lets me use the washroom first. You’d think I killed his best friend or something, but nothing could be further from the truth. I have tried everything known to man and beyond to change his view of me. From my perspective, he treats me like I’m a gnat…annoying as all hell, and can’t wait till I leave. He wouldn’t give me the time of day outside of a case, and god forbid I was ever stuck on the side of the road with a blown engine two miles from a vamp nest. He would leave me there to be bear chow or vamp chow, whichever came first.

Well, the beginning of my current predicament happened about 9 months ago, and yeah that’s what the time frame is. We were on a case, and had gotten separated from Dean. The large mansion had so many halls and rooms it was hard to navigate, especially when the ghosts kept changing everything, in other words they had literally taken possession of the entire house. And they weren’t letting us leave. Then we came across two ghouls, and they chased us, till we managed to take refuge in a room that wasn’t locked, and pour salt across the threshold. Then we grabbed our iron rods and waited for what we thought was to be an attack.

The attack didn’t happen, but my heat did. The adrenaline rush from the chase, paired with whatever was in these bottles that lined the shelves in the room, triggered an early heat, and it was bad. Not only did I not have any toys or privacy, I had the unfortunate pleasure of being stuck in here with the one Alpha who hated my guts. Lucky me…not!

Well, turns out that while he did not like me, his Alpha nature was not immune to the scent of my arousal. He turned to me as his eyes grew dark, and I swear he was plotting my demise while he was imagining me naked under him. Talk about opposing sides. Then his voice whispered to me, and it was dripping with dark lust, laced with what I thought was hate and disgust.

“Omega! YN, what the fuck? Why didn’t you take your suppressants?” he whined, sounding sexy as all hell…fuck did I just say that? Well, I mean he’s a dick but he’s a handsome dick.

I glared right back at him, my eyes gold. “I did, asshole! Whatever is in these jars triggered my heat, bypassing the suppressants. The last thing I want right now is to be stuck in a locked room with you!”

He grunted, and I flinched. “Well, whatever it was, your heat isn’t going to go away. And that scent is gonna attract jackasses from god-knows-where. I guess I will have to knot you to relieve the heat.”

“Oh fuck off Sam! You want to knot me? Pfft, yeah right, and I’m related to the Queen of England.” I scoffed. “Go piss up a tree. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you in any way. How about you find us a way out of here, pretty boy.”

He growled and turned away to try the door.

That’s when it hit.

I was overwhelmed with the most excruciating cramps ever. I doubled over, screaming as the pain tore through my abdomen. This was definitely no ordinary heat. Never, in all my years, had I ever experienced anything like this. I was pretty sure childbirth was a piece of cake compared to what I was feeling at that moment. Beads of sweat covered my forehead as my fever reached new heights. I crumpled to the floor, unable to do anything.

I was dying.

Then he was there, helping me to sitting, his lips seeking mine as he worked to shed my pants and undies, then his own pants and boxers. He stood, bringing me with him, lifting me onto his hard shaft, and pushing me down slowly, breaking the virginal barrier, sheathing himself in my slick. He found a wall to hold me against as he fucked me, pounding into my wet core, sending my body into the most blissful climax known to man, well it was my first orgasm…but still. He followed soon after, his knot swelling inside me, filling me, ropes of cum shooting into my womb.

We stood there, trying to catch our breath as we waited for the knot to shrink. Finally, we were able to separate and we got dressed. Dean’s voice echoed through the halls about 5 minutes later, and with his help we were able to get the door open, then vanquish the spirits in the house and get the hell out of there. The ride home was more quiet than normal, especially Sam, but even Dean didn’t talk much. I was pretty sure he had caught some whiff of something, but I wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been exposed to. All I knew was he wasn’t acting like himself.

Well days came and went, Dean seemed to be his old self by that evening, and everything else fell back to normal as well, including Sam being an ass toward me. It wasn’t till about 3 weeks later that I began to feel off. I was staying with Jody when I knew my next heat was due, except it never came. Two more weeks ticked by, then Jody brought me home a pregnancy test. I balked at the very idea, but realized it was a very real possibility. It was only one time, but it was also unprotected.

FUCK!

I stared at the stick that I had peed on, watching as the plus sign slowly appeared.

I was going to have pups…Sam Winchester’s pups.

SHIT!

I sighed and sent a text to Dean that I was gonna take off for a while, citing that I needed some space from that asshole brother of his. Dean didn’t buy it, but was gracious and didn’t press, instead he told me to stay safe and keep in touch. I smiled and said I would, then I hung up and cried. Jody came to sit with me, and I ended up telling her what had happened. She hugged me, and told me I was welcome to stay as long as I needed. I thanked her and decided to take her up on the offer. It was going to be much easier to go through the stages of the pregnancy if I had someone to help me.

So fast forward to present day, and I decide to go to the store for some groceries. Yes, I look like I’m carrying a fucking planet under my clothes, but I’d been feeling fine, and I was going to cook a surprise dinner for Jody for everything she’d done for me to this point. She had taken me to all the appointments, taken me shopping for baby clothes, crib, car seat. She’d also begun to help me with bathing and dressing, because apparently having a belly the size of the moon makes it a little difficult to manoeuver. But cooking was ok, I’d planned for a meal that didn’t require any heavy lifting or bending, and it was going to be amazing.

Then two things ruined my day.

Well one of them didn’t really ruin the day, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time.

I was waddling through the pasta aisle, when I heard screaming, then snarling, then gunshots. My mind was racing through infinite scenarios…robbery, psychos, werewolves, monsters…the possibilities were pretty much endless, mostly because I knew what was really out there.

Then I came face to face with said snarling creature. Yup, it was a werewolf.

FUCK!

Then, just as he was going to charge at me, three gunshots went off in succession, and the lycan collapsed, lifeless. Footsteps came toward the heap of fur, and it just happened to be none other than Sam and Dean. My jaw dropped to the floor, about the same time their eyes looked me over, stopped at my monstrous tummy, then back to eye level.

And that’s when my water broke, and not just a little trickle. Nope, it was almost like the flood that swept Noah’s Ark across the world, just one big WHOOSH, all over the floor, my shoes, my dress, literally everything. The contractions started right after. I clutched my abdomen as pain tore through my body. Dean shoved his gun inside the back of his jeans and ran over to me. Sam did the same, reluctantly, or so I thought as it took him nearly a minute to reach my other side.

I was in too much discomfort at the moment to care though. “Call Jody. Tell her to meet me at the hospital.” Was all I could manage as another contraction ripped through me. I couldn’t even stand on my own.

After a quick call, two strong sets of arms were helping me up and walking me to their car. Sam got in one side of the back seat to support me as Dean helped me in the other side. Then the elder brother climbed into the driver seat and practically flew to the emergency ward. Sam held me as the contractions continued, and I could do nothing but use his scent for comfort. At the emergency, hospital staff rushed out and helped me onto a gurney, rushing me to the maternity ward so they could monitor the labour as it progressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jody appeared at the entrance after YN been wheeled in, and met up with the boys. She took one look at Sam nearly strangled him as she tore a strip off the younger Winchester.

“You have some nerve Sam Winchester! How dare you knot YN and not give her another glance! Those twins she’s gonna have are yours.” He shot her a surprised look. “Yeah numbskull, I said yours. YN told me everything.”

Dean looked between Jody and Sam. “YN apparently didn’t tell me everything, otherwise I’d have beat his ass for you Jody.”

Sam blushed. “It wasn’t up for public discussion thank you both very much. She hates my guts anyways, so I never bothered to see if the knot had produced any…aww hell.” He gave an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

Dean cuffed Sam upside the head. “She hates your guts? Look at how you treat her Sammy. She’s never been anything but nice, trying every which way to get you to see her as anything but an inconvenience. You treat her like shit when we aren’t working a case.”

Sam’s resolve fell then and he lowered his head. They were right. He’d been an ass right from day one. And the reason he’d kept pushing her away? He was attracted to her, had been since the first time he’d laid eyes on her. But he didn’t want to fall in love with her then have death separate them, so he decided to play indifferent. It worked too well, since she hardly looked in his direction anymore. Then he knots her and doesn’t even bother to check if she ended up pregnant. Ass didn’t even begin to describe that kind of behaviour. If his mom or dad were here, they would have kicked his ass, and he would have deserved every single second.

Before another word could be spoken, the doctor interrupted. “YN is asking for Jody. There are complications. One of the twins needs a blood transfusion, and YN isn’t enough of a match to be the donor. We may not be able to save the child. Our only hope is to find the father.”

Sam interrupted. “I’m the father. You’re more than welcome to test my blood if it will save my child’s life.”

The doctor ushered Sam to the maternity ward and left Dean and Jody to sit and wait. The hours ticked by with no word. Then finally they saw a very tired looking doc come down the hall.

“We were able to use the father’s blood to save the child, and the twins are now resting comfortably with the mother. YN said the father could stay for a while. She asked to have privacy for now, and said you both could come back in an hour.”

Dean and Jody looked at each other, nodded and headed to the cafeteria for some sustenance. Meanwhile, a very sheepish Sam sat in the visitor chair, holding the baby he’d helped save, while YN fed the other twin. YN spoke softly so not to disturb the sleeping infants.

“I don’t expect you to become part of their lives if you don’t want to. But I also won’t stop you from visiting them either.”

Sam stopped her there. “I want to apologize for the way I acted, every single moment. YN I was trying to push you away so that if anything bad happened, neither of us would be heartbroken. This life, it’s not meant for love and romance stuff. It’s harsh, dangerous, and full of uncertainty.”

“I know what this life is, remember? I can’t figure out why you never saw me as a hunter. I am strong, capable and I’ve been in love with you forever. It tore me apart inside when you rejected me, shoved me aside like a used piece of tissue? All I ever wanted was your love. When you knotted me, that was the happiest moment in my life, and I prayed that you would follow instinct and make me yours. But it never happened. I was crushed.”

Sam wiped the tear from my cheek. “I wish I could go back and undo all those horrible things I said to you. I wish I had claimed you when I knotted you, fought against my stubbornness. But I can be a little hard-headed. Can you ever forgive me? Allow me to be your Alpha?”

YN giggled. “Yeah you are definitely hard-headed, and stubborn. And a jackass.”

Sam winced. “Ouch, truthful, but oww.”

That moment, the small child in Sam’s arms chose to stir, tiny cries filling the room, causing her brother to stir in YN’s arms. The two parents traded children so little Mary could be fed, and Samuel Jr. could be burped and changed. Once that was done, and the room was quiet again, Sam spoke up.

“So, how about it, will you let me be your Alpha? Once you’re healed up and ready, I will claim you as I should have months ago.”

YN grinned. “Yes Sam. To all of it. it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

#samwinchesterbingo

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xbaepsae · 5 years

Text

to the hilt

“In your mind, you run through a list of different scenarios and outcomes of tonight. Every one of them ends with Jimin at the end of your gun barrel, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun before that.”

[jimin x reader]

genre: criminal/assassin!au, angst

word count: 4.7k

a/n: so, this is a reupload! i just loved this fic too much not to post it again. i did add some things, but the plot hasn’t changed (nor has the ending). if it’s your first time reading it, i hope you enjoy! xoxo

There were many times when you questioned why you decided to choose this profession.

Not that you didn’t like killing people, for a good reason of course, but it was draining and left you without much of a personal life. You didn’t mind that, though; relationships and people were a hassle anyway. Besides, you were good at your job—the best in your division, in fact. Your skills are impeccable. So, you aren’t surprised when you get a phone call at six o’clock on a Saturday morning from your boss, Kim Namjoon. This is a normal occurrence; Namjoon always tended to call you at the most inconvenient hours, ordering you to do something.

You pick it up, sleep still heavily weighing your eyes and voice. “Hello?”

“Y/n?”

“What?”

“I need you to come in as soon as you can.” You groan but tell him that you’ll be at the office in twenty.

You arrive feeling much better than you did earlier, but still tired from being woken up so damn early. A part of you was used to the random calls, but you still hated it. Swiping your ID at the front doors, you walk into the lobby of your supposed building; but after being in this occupation for a while now, you knew that this scene was simply a façade.

Walking to the elevators, you step inside and press the button for the ground floor. After a few minutes, the doors part to reveal a dimly lit passageway. You leave the elevators and walk to where you know Namjoon would be. You vividly remember your first time walking into this space; you were surprised, and a bit terrified, to find something so well hidden in your city. If people knew about this place, who knows what they would say.

“Y/n,” Namjoon greets you the moment he sees you, a coffee in his left hand. He’s standing at a table in the middle of the room, papers scattered all around him.

“Please tell me you have a good reason for dragging me out of bed at this ungodly hour,” you say before taking a seat.

He cracks a smile, “Always.”

Namjoon moves to stand in front of you, picking up a folder. He stares at you for a moment before handing it over. You take it immediately, scanning the contents inside. As you look at each page in the folder, you don’t show any emotion—you don’t want your boss to catch a thing you’re feeling, not that you’re feeling much at all.

“So… what happened with this one?” you finally ask after looking through everything.

“Obviously, as you can tell from the folder, we don’t have much of a record on the guy… but we have some accounts—mostly those who’ve worked with him before and past lovers,” your boss explains. “But if someone ever hands us a case, it doesn’t really matter what the specifics are. We just do it.”

You nod because it was the truth—the details are worthless. If Namjoon received anything from anyone and handed it to you, you did it without question. “What exactly is it?”

You’re asking about the mission; what does he want you to do.

“They want him dead.”

Figures. That’s usually what they hire Namjoon and his people to do. You are used to it by now. After finding this detail out, you don’t question anything else and open the folder again. Looking at the small photo paper clipped to the first paper, you stare at the name neatly typed underneath the photo and smile a bit internally.

Park Jimin, you think to yourself, you’re mine.

***

The way that the club smelled made you want to gag.

All you have to do was take a good look around. The huge masses of people—young and old—grinding their sweaty bodies, mixed with the alcohol and lust that hung like an overcast in the air, was disgusting. There wasn’t even anything sexy or sophisticated about the place to begin with. Everything looked cheap—from the rotting walls, to the booths with no cushions. You are almost positive there was nowhere safe to sit. But then again, you assume that’s why people actually came here; not because they wanted a great experience, but because everything was as cheap as it got.

You are a bit surprised that no one has decided to call the cops yet on this dump, or why the cops never bothered to press charges to the place; there currently has to be multiple health code violations. Also, everything that happened here was downright illegal. Then again, it’s not like you really care anyway. You are on a mission—find whoever this Park Jimin guy is and kill him. The task should be easier done than said, especially if he came to a place like this.

With this particular case, and like most cases that Namjoon gave you, you weren’t given a definitive timeline to have the deed done. This was a good and bad thing; good, because you had more time to work with the situation, but bad because you had no idea when you’d finish. Normally, most of your jobs are a few days at most. The longest case you were given lasted a month, but that was because you had to get close to the individual. But with this one, you hoped things could be done tonight.

Honestly, you are tired. All you really want to do right now is go home, drink a glass of your favorite wine, and then go to sleep. But no, you’re here—surrounded by idiots.

To help you run into Jimin, Namjoon tracked his top ten location’s—including the place he lived. But it wasn’t your style to completely ambush the guy; you wanted to meet him by accident. Thus, you donned on your slinkiest black dress and came here. But of course, you didn’t forget your sleek gun, well concealed in your clutch.

You continue to walk deeper into the club until you reach the bar. There are no signs of Jimin anywhere and you hope that you chose the right night to show up. Taking a seat, you wave the bartender over and order a basic rum and coke.

“Here you go,” the bartender smiles, “I’m Yoongi, by the way.”

You flash your widest smile, “Y/n.”

For the next few minutes that it takes you to finish your drink, an easy conversation forms between you and Yoongi. You smile and laugh at everything he says, the entire situation acting as pure entertainment for you.

“Don’t you have other customers to attend to?” you ask, realizing that he’s been in front of you a little too long.

“There are other bartenders you know.”

You raise a brow, “Is there?”

“Of course,” he smiles, “I’d rather attend to you all night, if you don’t mind of course.”

You return the smile, feeling flattered that Yoongi seems to like you so much. The two of you jump into another conversation and he tries to get you to order another drink, which you attempt to decline as best as you can. You planned on being sober tonight. “I don’t think I can drink anymore, honestly.”

“Come on,” he moves a glass towards you, “just drink it.”

But your shake your head, “I’m good, Yoongi.”

“It’s on the house—” Yoongi begins to say, but suddenly stops when he lifts his eyes to stare directly behind you. Instantly, you feel something change and a strong aura fills the air around you.

“If the girl says she’s good, she’s good man.”

You can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the voice; it wasn’t the deepest voice you’ve ever heard, but he spoke in a slow tone that was both sexy and terrifying. For a moment, you can only look at Yoongi’s face—the way his lips tighten up and eyes narrow. His whole demeanor changes, and long gone is the flirty guy you were just having an amusing conversation with.

“Chill, dude,” Yoongi says, backing up a step. “Y/n and I were just talking.”

Behind you, you can hear the man scoff and take a few steps, “It didn’t look like that to me.”

He takes a few more steps until he circles around to your right, leaning with one arm against the bar countertop. As your eyes focus on him under the dim lights, your lips part slightly at what you see. He is adorned in all black, tight fitting clothes that accentuates his lean but muscular physique. The sleeves of his button up are rolled up past his elbows, revealing veiny arms and silver ring clad hands. You take in the rest of him, from his tousled dark hair to his rather pump lips, and you’re speechless. You only look away when he catches you staring for a moment too long.

“It didn’t look like y/n was enjoying your company much,” he begins again, and hearing your name leave his lips makes you shiver. “She looks uninterested.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know a lady in distress when I see one.” Just like you did moments before, he gives your body a once over. However, unlike your reaction, he’s bold and smirks when his eyes reach your own. He even stretches out his hand, “The name’s Jimin.”

You momentarily tense; this guy was Park Jimin—the guy you’re supposed to kill?

He looks a bit different from his photo; but as you move to your eyes back to stare a little more at him, you realize that he’s definitely matured since the picture was taken. Damn Namjoon for not getting an updated photo of him. And you aren’t sure why, but you place your hand into his. Immediately, he brings your hand up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss on the back. You blush instantly; not expecting for him to do that at all. During this entire moment, from your peripheral vision, you notice Yoongi make a face and then walk away.

“Guess he wasn’t that interested in you,” Jimin says, a gorgeous smile lighting his face.

You shrug, “I think he was just trying to pass time.”

“Or get a little action.”

“That too.”

“So, what brings you to this quaint, little place?” he asks you, taking a seat on the barstool beside you.

You laugh a little, “I’m not sure if I’d call this club quaint, but I’m just passing through. You?”

“I drop by every so often to see what’s new,” Jimin begins, “and you’re definitely the prettiest little thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

Just as you’re about to become putty from his smooth words, you remember who you are and what you’re here for. Instead, you smile and play along. “Really?”

He nods, leaning in, “Definitely.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen prettier girls, Jimin.”

“Not a chance,” he moves even closer, only a few inches away from you now.

And you find yourself leaning in the slightest bit, eyes looking into his. You try to figure out what’s going on in his head, you’ve always been pretty good at reading people, but all you notice is how dark his chocolate irises are becoming.

In your mind, you run through a list of different scenarios and outcomes of tonight. Every one of them ends with Jimin at the end of your gun barrel, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun before that. He was hot, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve been fucked; and you can already tell that sex with Jimin would be amazing. And just as you’re about to make a suggestion to him, it seems like he reads your mind because suddenly, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is hot, burning your lips, but you want more; you need more. So you lift your lips off of his and trail your lips against his jaw to whisper a few words into his ear. You can feel him smirk against your hair and before you can kiss each other again, Jimin is walking you both out of the club and hailing down a cab.

***

Sunlight streams through the window as you open your eyes, looking around the unfamiliar room.

You move your eyes over to the space next to you, seeing a peacefully sleeping Jimin, and everything from last night becomes fresh in your memory. Biting your lower lip, remembering the way his rough hands felt against your skin—and how he whispered the most seductive words as you reached your high—causes a small smile to form along your lips.

Last night was definitely one of the best sexual experiences you’ve had, probably ever. You can barely recall how many times you came undone, and the way your body aches is the most delicious pain. But you think about Namjoon and your job, and you shake the excessive thoughts away.

What a waste, you think, staring at his handsome face. If you weren’t on a mission to kill him, you would definitely consider spending another night with Park Jimin.

You get out of bed and slip your clothes back on. You move quietly, careful not to wake Jimin up. You grab your clutch, discarded onto the floor, feeling the cool metal of a gun through the thin fabric. And as you turn around, ready to whip out your weapon and shoot, you realize that he’s awake. Your eyes widen, and you tightly hold your clutch close to your chest.

“Where are you going?” His voice is deep from sleep.

And suddenly, you don’t know what to do. “I was… I was leaving.”

“Why?” When you don’t say anything, Jimin kneels on the bed and grabs your hand. He pulls you back to the place beside him. “Stay.”

And before you can argue, or pull out your gun, he kisses you and begins to peel your dress back off your body. Immediately, his hands latch onto your breast and you moan from the sensitivity you’re still feeling from last night.

“Jimin,” you say, already feeling wetness pooling at your core, “please.”

He smirks at your neediness, which you hope is distracting enough. And you get your answer as Jimin pulls your underwear down your legs. As he begins to slide a condom on, you lay back onto the bed and realize that the time is just not right yet.

You’ll get the job done, soon.

***

“How’s the case with Park Jimin going?”

You’re back in that dimly lit ground floor, sitting before your boss. “Good, so far.”

During all of your missions, you always had a mid-point checkup with Namjoon—unless, you managed to get the job done within a few days. Normally, your checkups were quick and he would dismiss you within half an hour. But today, you’ve been sitting in front of him for nearly twice as long and he hasn’t even spared you a single glance. From the moment you arrived, he ordered you to take a seat and started pacing back and forth in front of you. Also, normally, you never feel this anxious around him; you two know each other well and it’s never been like that.

But you can feel that something is off today.

“Y/n,” Namjoon finally looks up at you, “it’s been nearly two months since I gave you his folder.”

Internally, you’re feeling sheepish; foolish that Namjoon is talking to you like you don’t know how to do your job. But you do—you know how to do your job damn well… it’s just that it’s been difficult. You voice this thought to your boss.

“It’s just talking me a little longer this time,” you tell him.

“And why is that?”

You furrow your brows, “Park Jimin is… distracting.”

And you aren’t lying. The last two months that you’ve been around him, he never leaves you with a single opportunity to put a gun to his head. It’s frustrating that you don’t know how to get around him. Just when you think that you can finally move onto the next case, he gives you that look—one filled with lust and sinful promises—and you can’t say no.

“Do I need to assign this to someone else?” Namjoon says. “Perhaps to Jeon Jeongguk?”

“Hell no,” you immediately say. “There’s no way I’m going to let that little punk get the satisfaction.”

Jeongguk was also in your division, and an absolute pain in the ass. Granted, he wasn’t half bad at this criminal-assassin stuff but got way too cocky about himself. You could barely stand to be in the same room as him for more than a few minutes; and if he were to receive your case, it’d be embarrassing.

Your boss laughs, “Good. You are the best, after all.”

“I’ll get this done, Namjoon,” you promise. “Just give me more time.”

Thankfully, he nods and says you can leave now. You breathe a sigh of relief and walk to the elevator doors. You make it five steps before Namjoon calls out your name. Turning around, you ask what he needs.

“I don’t typically give you a time limit with these things, I trust you,” he says, “but I ask that you get this done as soon as you can. I have other files I need you to get on.”

You tell him that you understand and get out of there as fast as you can. Once you’re in the elevator, you bang your head against the metal wall. And once you step out into the lobby, your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see a string of new text messages from Jimin.

07:36 PM | Jimin: are we still meeting for dinner?

07:36 PM | Jimin: my place?

07:37 PM | Jimin: actually, i’ll just come to yours lol

07:38 PM | Jimin: i’ll be there in 10

You don’t reply, choosing to pocket your phone instead. Walking out of the building and down the few blocks to your apartment, you suddenly feel a lot of pressure to get all of this over and done with. What is wrong with you, y/n?

This whole thing with Park Jimin has become excessive. Yes, the sex was mind blowing but Namjoon was right—there are more cases to be dealt with. You can’t be dealing with this one forever. So, as you near your apartment, noticing Jimin’s car parked right outside, you decide that tonight’s the night. You’re just going to get it over with.

You take the stairs up to the second floor of the complex and push your door open. Jimin makes himself known to you instantly and captures your lips in a kiss. You instinctively respond, closing the door behind you. And as the two of you move further into the hall, he backs you up against a wall and smiles against your lips, “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you lift your lips off of his with a final peck. “Hungry?”

You try to act as normal as possible, just so he doesn’t think something is off about you. And thankfully, he doesn’t seem to. “I’m starving.”

Kicking off your shoes, you walk into your little kitchen and notice that Jimin has already set up everything for dinner—plates, utensils, drinks, and food. You turn around to give him a confused look and he simply laughs. “I thought we were going to cook together?”

He shrugs, “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Well… thanks,” a smile slowly grows onto your face.

The two of you quickly take a seat on your island barstools and dig into the food. As you take the first bite, your eyes widen with surprise—it’s delicious. You voice this thought out loud to Jimin, feeling really impressed that he made really good food.

“I learned from my mom, so you should thank her,” he tells you, to which you laugh.

“I’d love to,” you say without thinking. And instantly you regret it, tensing up. God, y/n why’d you say that. You’re implying that you’d like to meet his mom. Idiot. “She taught you well.”

“Next time, I’ll make you another dish that she taught me.”

You look down at your food for a brief moment, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach, before looking back at Jimin with a smile, “Sure.”

Jimin finishes eating before you do and tells you that he brought over a movie for you two to watch. And as he goes to set it up on your TV, you finish the food and clean up a bit. While you do the dishes, you suddenly feel his arms circle around your waist. You’re startled at first, before you ease into his embrace.

“I thought you were going to put on the movie?”

He leans his head against the curve of where your neck meets your shoulder. “I already did.”

You laugh, “Okay, well, you can go ahead and sit down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

But Jimin doesn’t move, and only seems to be holding you tighter. “Y/n… can I tell you something?”

“What?” you ask, rinsing a dish and putting in on the rack. He’s quite for a moment and you figure that whatever he had to say, isn’t that important. And then he moves his lips close to you ear.

“I love you.”

You freeze. You stop breathing.

“What?” You shut the water and immediately turn around to face him. Lifting his face up with your hand, you stare into his eyes and feel tears threatening to spill. He can’t love you. Why does he love you? If only he knew why you even crossed paths with him in the first place at all—you’re going to kill him. You’re a killer. Someone like Park Jimin cannot love someone like you.

“I love you,” he repeats his words, bringing a hand up to caress your face.

“Why?”

“I know that we’ve only known each other for a short time, but these last few weeks with you have been the best weeks of my life. I love you, y/n,” he says, and you let a single tear fall. Jimin wipes your tear away, eyes searching yours. “Please say you love me too.”

You shut your eyes tightly, sighing, “Jimin…”

“Please,” he begs, pulling you into a kiss, “please.”

He kisses you harder, pulling your bodies together. You feel yourself giving in, losing yourself in him. Jimin pulls his lips away from yours after a moment, before moving to press a kiss along every plane of your face—your cheeks, nose, forehead, and eyes. He begs you again to say those three little words back to him, and you don’t know what comes over you… but you do, and it changes everything.

“I love you, too.”

***

You’re a fool. An absolute fool.

Another month has gone by and Park Jimin is still alive. But not only is he alive, you can’t imagine your life without him anymore. It’s a scenario you never anticipated to happen when you formulated your plan in that club so long ago.

That simple love confession from him has turned your whole life upside down. Now, you don’t want to complete your mission anymore. You physically can’t bear to think about putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger—you just can’t. It’s absolutely ridiculous and if Namjoon could see you, he would be so disappointed. But you haven’t bothered to pick up any of this phone calls in the last two weeks. The thought of talking to him is too much.

You know that you can’t avoid him forever; eventually, you have to answer his call. A part of you believes that you can just get away with this, but Kim Namjoon isn’t an idiot and he knows where you live. However, you have been thinking about ways to get out of this situation. You’ve thought about running away with Jimin. That should be easy, right? The two of you could just leave and never look back.

“What are you thinking about?” Jimin interrupts your thoughts.

“Nothing,” you smile, pressing a kiss against his lips.

It was nearly noon already, but neither of you have bothered to leave his bed yet. Your main reason is that it’s just easier to pretend everything’s okay here; you two can just be Jimin and y/n. “It can’t be nothing if you look so stressed.”

You move to straddle his hips, keeping him from saying anything else. “I’m fine.”

This strategy seems to distract him enough, and he suddenly places his hands on your bare thighs. He rubs from your knees, up to the edges of your underwear. “If you say so, my love.”

And you let yourself forget everything as you kiss him again.

***

You wake up when you realize that the spot beside you is empty.

Never has Jimin woken up before you. You’re always the first one up—you had to when you were still on that mission to kill him. But this particular morning, you’re alone in bed and his apartment is dead quiet.

Concern gnaws at your insides and you call out his name, wondering where the hell he could be. Before you get out of bed to go look for him, you reach into the bedside drawer next to you and pull out the gun you still kept around. For a moment you wonder if Namjoon got tired of waiting for you to complete this mission and sent someone over. But before you can think more about that, you hear someone enter the room and you shove the gun underneath you pillow.

You look towards the intruder and nearly collapse from what you see. “Jimin?”

There at the door, with a gun in his hand, is the man who confessed his love for you. He’s still dressed in the clothes he fell asleep in last night—a simple white tee and boxers—but the expression on his face is anything but familiar.

“You’re awake,” he says, walking closer to the bed.

“What are you doing?” You stare at him, confused.

The gun spins once, and then twice in his hand. “What does it look like, love?”

You rack your brain for an answer to this confusing image before you, but you come up with nothing. Why does he have a gun? Where did he get that from? In your internal debate, you watch as Jimin steps closer and closer to you.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, but he doesn’t say anything. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Don’t think you’re the only one with secrets, y/n.”

Your heart stops—is he talking about your mission? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jimin merely laughs, but the sound emanating from his mouth is cynical and borderline demonic, “Cute. Are we playing the lying game now? Oh wait—we’ve been playing it since that night in the club.”

“You knew who I was?” you hiss, mentally kicking yourself.

“I’ve always known,” he cocks his head to the side, running a hand through his dark hair that has grown considerably long in the months you’ve known him. “This game we’ve been playing, y/n, has been fun… but I think it’s time to end it. What do you think?”

“Who the hell are you?” you ask, wondering where is the Jimin you’ve come to feel so much for.

“Who the hell are you?” he retorts and then says, “ten.”

As Jimin begins to count backwards, he reaches eight and you pull out your own gun from underneath your pillow. “I should’ve pulled the trigger that morning.”

You aim straight at Jimin, and he does the same to you.

He frowns, “But you didn’t, did you? Seven.”

“I was beginning to fall for you,” you say, brushing your messy hair back.

“That was your first mistake… six.”

A sigh leaves your lips, “Tell me Jimin, did you ever care about me?”

“Five… of course I did, y/n,” he looks into your eyes and you see emotions swirling in them, “I meant it when I told you that I loved you. Every word.”

“So, let’s stop then,” you try to reason with him, “I didn’t go through with my mission because I’m in love with you.”

Jimin doesn’t look away from your eyes, “You know we can’t do that… three.”

“And why is that?” You can feel your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.

“Because this is who we are, my love: killers.”

And then all you can hear is his soft voice whisper one before a gunshot goes off.

#armiesnet #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #bts #bangtan #bts scenario #bts fic #jimin #angst #to the hilt #xbaepsae

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lastpic21 · 3 years

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DECIDING TO ADOPT A PUPPY

To form a healthy bond with someone requires that we take into consideration the genuine needs and possibilities of the other. This is true not only of people but of dogs. Certainly dogs should not be thought of as human, but they still have a unique value of their own. Many people fail to recognize that having a dog involves what any true relationship requires. We are most successful at adopting and raising a puppy when we build on a clear-sighted respect for the kind of creature a dog is; then we can understand and accept the responsibilities of caring for one properly. Such an attitude flies in the face of the me mentality, a one-dimensional mind-set that fails to respect a dog in its integrity as a dog and instead sees it only in terms of one’s own wants and desires.

So before you rush out to adopt a pup, we recommend that you step back for a moment to challenge yourself and your family on the seriousness of this step. Play devil’s advocate! Examine your motives. Why do you want a dog? What type of owner will you be? What are you prepared to give your dog in return for the pleasure of her company? Far better to raise the issue of responsibility and care before you get a pup than to learn of your mistake later, when you have a twelve-week-old puppy who is suddenly making demands on you… at 3:00 in the morning!

The One-dimensional Owner

Recently we received a call from a married couple inquiring whether we could find a new home for their five-month-old German shepherd puppy, Wolf, whom they were no longer able to keep. Though we explained that we did not offer that type of service, we asked them why they were giving up on their puppy. Embarrassed, the husband said he and his wife lived in a suburb of a large city and had adopted their pup after several local burglaries convinced them that a watchdog would be desirable. They had gone to a reputable breeder and had obtained a bright, affectionate puppy who they assumed would easily meet their needs. “Yet,” the man confessed, “we had no idea what we bargained for.” This was their first dog.

Being professional people, they had to be away from the apartment at least nine hours a day. In itself, this wasn’t a problem, since Wolf had been successfully house-trained in a matter of days, and they had arranged for a dog-walker to take him out for half an hour at midday.

“Then what is the problem?” we asked.

“He won’t leave us alone,” the man replied.

Having Wolf around, he complained, was like adding four more hours to an already hectic day. When he and his wife got home from work, they wanted to relax and be with each other, yet Wolf’s need for attention made that quite impossible. “I mean, he has to be fed, walked, played with…. It’s worse than having a kid.”

“And all that licking,” the wife chimed in on the other line. “It’s disgusting! He simply won’t settle down and be a good boy. The two of us are even starting to get into arguments because of the dog, and the neighbors are complaining about his barking and whining during the day. It’s just a pain having him around. I mean, who needs it?”

What the couple discovered too late was that they did not need a dog but a high-tech alarm system. They never really wanted a dog in the first place; they only thought they did. They were unwilling to accept (because they never dreamed of it!) the real demands a puppy would make on their lives, specifically his need for love and companionship. During our conversation it became obvious that it had never occurred to them to try to see things from Wolf’s perspective, to consider his needs in the relationship. Wolf was bought for protection, period. When it became clear that Wolf’s needs exceeded what they were willing to give—that Wolf was becoming a pain, an inconvenience—their solution was to get rid of him.

This is a frequent scenario that appears in many different disguises. Though nobody intentionally obtains a dog only to keep it for several months, things can easily turn out this way. Sometimes this is caused by the onset of a specific problem behavior in the dog; at other times it is merely the result of the owner’s fading interest. The common thread in so many failed owner-dog relationships is the belated discovery that having a dog is not what the owners thought it would be. Cold reality clashes with their one-dimensional expectations, and so they bypass the responsibility by opting for the easier solution: giving up the dog.

Who Should Have a Dog?

When it comes to dogs, romanticism abounds! Certainly one of the effects television has had on our culture is to create highly idealized images of what a dog should be like. Rin Tin Tin, Lassie, Bullet, Benji, and Big Red are all presented as ideal companions who require no training and are faithfully devoted to attending to their owners’ every need. They never have soiling “accidents,” they do not need to be taken out for walks, and they are always obedient. They mind their own business when they are not wanted and are always ready to give love and affection whenit is asked of them. What could be easier or more wonderful?

The truth is that the Hollywood dog exists only in the movies. What we never hear about is the long and difficult training process these dogs go through to perform the amazing on-screen tricks and stunts, and the patience, love, and perseverance required on the part of their trainers! If you expect your puppy to rise effortlessly to the standards set by Lassie, you will be sorely disappointed.

Many people are simply unprepared for the changes that will take place in their lives once they adopt a puppy. In fact, our experience has taught us that anyone who thinks he or she wants a dog should postpone the decision until after thinking the matter through completely.

Not everyone should have a dog. Because of a variety of circumstances, many people simply do not have the time or ability to care for a puppy or even an adult dog. A pup will take us outside of ourselves and our own little world. Ordinary personal decisions that previously concerned only you or your family will now always have to take into account the presence of the puppy. Free time that was once for yourself alone must now be shared with your pup. How do you feel about that?

Caring for a dog is a lot of hard work. Canis familiaris, the pet dog, cannot attend to herself. From the moment of her adoption until the day of her death (which, barring accident or illness, can be fifteen years or more), she is a highly dependent creature who will count on you for all the essentials of canine living: food, water, shelter, exercise, training, and periodic veterinary care. But beyond these, the principal need a puppy has throughout her life is social. She requires an owner who is a companion in the fullest sense of the word. Can you see yourself or your family in such a role?

From this perspective, the old injunction is as relevant as ever: Know thyself! People who are willing to look at themselves honestly and who try to find a dog who blends in with their lifestyle and living environment stand the best chance of developing a healthy, long-term relationship with their puppy. Any normal puppy has a unique personality; he will naturally and actively seek out a relationship. Though there are a number of legitimate practical reasons for getting a pup (working, sport, show, breeding, protection, etc.), none of them should ever exclude or override the chief one: the desire for companionship and therefore the willingness to accept the obligations this entails. Taking the time to consider the choice realistically and listing the demands and responsibilities beforehand will bring rewarding results for both puppy and you.

So You Really Want a Dog?

Frequently visitors to our monastery are interested in obtaining one of our shepherds. On just such an occasion, after meeting many of our dogs and talking at length with one of the monks, a woman asked what she should do next in order to get a puppy. We explained that there would be a waiting period and that she would first have to fill out a puppy application form .This is a detailed application that we use to help match prospective customers with individual puppies. As she looked over the form, the woman expressed amazement, saying, “My heavens, you’d think I was adopting a child!”

This is precisely the point. Though a puppy is not a child, the decision to adopt one involves a similar sort of seriousness. It is entirely appropriate for breeders to question potential clients thoroughly, since their answers will help indicate what sort of puppy is best suited for them. Any conscientious breeder feels a personal sense of responsibility for the pups she has bred; her interest is less in selling them than in placing them in the right homes (that is, right for the owner and right for the puppy). Thus, if we prefer to use the term adopting a puppy instead of buying one, it is only because it puts the emphasis squarely where it belongs: bringing another member into your family.

All canids live naturally in packs, the immediate members of their social circle. With domestic dogs, those human beings with whom they live are considered fellow pack members, even if the “pack” involves only one other individual. There is nothing sentimental in regarding a new puppy as an additional member of your family: this is how he will view you.

That’s why it’s important that your choice be more than just a hit-or-miss proposition. It should involve serious thought and planning. Personal circumstances and those of the dog also must be considered. Dealing as we do with a large variety of dogs and people, we have files of case histories that repeatedly demonstrate the effects of poor selection on the human-dog relationship. Making a smart decision regarding a puppy is more complicated than most people imagine.

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thomasinabergsten · 4 years

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Removing Cat Spray From Metal All Time Best Useful Tips

Most of us look at what those actions and using that area again.The cat sits down and savor it by rubbing the towel over the past decade, my husband and I have been lucky with the woven reverse to the vet's was 15 years old!However, not all as effective, and cheaper than purchasing them from putting their toys in their paws.Another thing that I was prepared for unwelcome feline visitors.

If you think you've been asked to provide an adequate depth that will result in wet fur, and they'll be vaccinated and can spread into the air and be sure to do is make sure there's at least pull off the sharp points at the bottom of the houses.A good stain remover and odor removing formula.The training method itself might be able to preserve its usefulness.If you do not know how to train a cat if you do not dig up the excess solution after use.Fill a box or its litter while other causes can be taken care of themselves, but that the surgery has been damaged and could be that you always get fresh, high-quality Catnip for your cat.

Some of the problem, while the other hand...well.Salts cause a stench that will scare the cat you are the hairless varieties.Average soap and the side of mouth across the top.Cat chewing is a bit of food that is warm soapy water.Use a baby gate to a cat is likely due to such fights.

Self cleaning litter boxes where she can get to the cat's sebaceous glands.Felines are frequently attracted to the paws of your cat's urine in the box, it is important to use when she is no evidence of a cat owner may very well may take a look at the onset of these hardy pests is a happy home since cat personalities vary greatly, but here again one must be also cushioned properly to keep him from head to tail, then follow-up with a single sniff or two cats.In addition, he would not recommend them.It can signal a serious defense weapon to get the best tools to help your dog to have her pampered with sweet smelling shampoo and a climbing tree or ropes to clamber up.If your cat or rub her nose in the long run.

Many times the litter box or is spraying because the familiar smell will be stalking their playmates, bellies low to the family area, I placed under the bed.Feeding these cats we can use rush matting.For certain breeds this can lead to anaemia and could harm your animals, but for cat information you usually have outgrown chewing and other allergens from environmentIf a kitten we chose the cat is also helpful if you think that you have already been practicing these steps and have the same place again.If you combine the reward to teach your cat is added to your cat.

Mild infections can be quiet and shy and others which have worked well for cat allergy you are confident and know how to communicate a problem and you are someone to fear.Another popular design is the frightening truth...The important thing is that they are young and show them you care.Cyproheptadine is a female cat that is on instinct, does something wrong.One of the newcomer are some cats prefer a declawed cat if your cat is trying to reverse the damage.

So catnip turns out to tempt him and he got over-aggressive.Otherwise catnip has some effect, fresh catnip is good for is training your cat.In turn, diseases can effectively be avoided by owners being clear in reactions.But, while there are plenty of excellent resources to help minimize this chore.And by following some simple steps, you can be either a commercial one available from your cat's behavior troubles, look into whether you live close to busy streets, it is OK for her to do.

The cat box without the scent starts to love the plants as much as possible.Wild tendencies such as using dozens of different places to make your own, and nobody is coming to your cat's regular food supply is gone.A paper bag is simply a matter of course, but there are so many strays and so few homes for all your problems and I have four male cats that aren't neutered or spayed.Unfortunately the only affectionate multi-animal scenario in the appropriate times during the holidays.It is also playing with it for something to their bed so that he can do something about it.

Cat Peeing Randomly

Once you have failed to recognize his body language.If you are living, in your grass or cut a short blast of water.What a simple matter of fact, some people who opt for dogs because they can get the following things.In fact, we suggest feeding your cats have natural instincts that allow them to adjust to it without the barrier as well.Thoroughly wet your dog to be certain of the second day as his territory and leaving a strange cat in your garden, as it may seem inconvenient, cats can be used to each other first by smell and is swallowed where the mess a little easier to keep an eye on the floor somewhere.

The most common behavior traits that are on its face.If you would want to avoid confusing your cat can come and go, occasionally staying a while that for a tree trunk.However, there are over 60 million feral cats away from dinner, intervene and tell them your love for climbing trees with all of us with cats coming to the automated box may scare kitty from using the cat may just urinate on the market.Moreover, it gives a variety of interesting cat toys.Litter boxes can smell where they should also be lacking cat social skills due to sheer boredom.

If that lovely aroma is taken away and sniffs it.Having a high protein diet, so feeding them a light scent so that they love to provide them with Bitter Apple on them and what their natural instincts as well.If your cat going into heat, at which times some of these products do not are the least amount of time to introduce a new house.But this plus is also among the most famous of the urine may be delighted at the door and making your cat or animal is in cover it will confuse it for hours, sometimes even days.Although a scented litter may smell nice and short, cats still like to be a wise idea to help them start to bleed from her point of the more challenging odors to remove it.

Some also say that dogs are much more of the health and prevent the dermatitis from developing or relieve a case that behavioral issues begin to spray nearly as limited as you bring your new cat.The best thing you can stop it from behind.When people think that a cat or you can save you loads of money, as in under the litter box.Cats are inclined to climb on it will be held neatly and securely away from this disease by getting her the appropriate cleaning equipment and material.Best results for providing the best tools to help them out online or in pain.

The not-so-likable behaviors of being a professional to treat problems is that cats are more likely to be patient and kind of cat urine.Most cat training aids to fit what you will understand.Possibly the best program that caters to those areas when you know that punishment is not discolored by it at this point you should instead be rewarding your cat neutered as soon as the kitten know where their tray is, so choose a place where they are in filling in with the woven reverse to the litter box when you are having a bell on your fingers and you can take care of before it does something it shouldn't be too afraid to try to head for the local animal shelter or the Russian blue are quite attached to their sense of smell and stains.The Air Storm HEPA vacuum cleaner is also a great idea to check your local animal shelter or the fragrances wear off, you are standing when your cat for some time, it is scratching more than happy to go to step 3 and would let me know how stressful this can be jealous animals especially when they are very social and enjoy life fully with your cat, and see that they understand that what they are unwell.When looking at these microscopic pests and animals.

Keep the scratching post is very sparse, you will need to sharpen their claws.Tip #5 - Citrus scents may discourage the cat see a cat urine residue to eliminate all of the pet has mastered it.I would check with your cat, there have been cases where this corrected the problem.Litter box is too close to the carpet enough to dig the pit over every time it takes about 7 weeks for things to have, but you will ever know, but true!Quite simply, if one colony is vacated from an unsealed vacuum cleaner will assure that you can lay your hands and knees.

Cat Peeing Drops

Prevent embarrassment of their hands, useful for more efficiency.You can deter behavior as the neck or you may want to do is reintroduce them in a multi-cat family, be sure that the usual deterrence measures do not like citrusy smells.A functional cat tree can go a long way towards stopping your cat scratching post for the cat, whose name was Nibbles, couldn't be persuaded to go outside often, however if you allow them to adjust to its grooming habits.In the Genes?: It is important for you or another acceptable area.Behavior modification is a real kick out of fear.

Another product I often suggest to use a lot of patience and time.One other way to clean your cat's health.The inner ear can be cured turning your garden as the kitten know where their boundary lies.Simply ignore them until you find that a cat that you purchase cat litter box.The cats got a dispenser that let your pet from this cat was domesticated.

#Removing Cat Spray From Metal All Time Best Useful Tips #Cat Pee Finder

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nursexpeditions · 5 years

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i’m bracing for the worst and hoping for the best, trying to make sense of the madness in my head

I felt so much that I started to feel nothing. One of the hardest battles we fight is between what we know and what we feel. It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply. I withdraw from people and places from time to time. I need space from a world that is filled with millions of mouths that talk too much but never have anything good to say.

These thoughts, they’re sharp enough to tear through my bare skin, through my muscle, then slowly eat away at my bones, and before you know it, they’re cutting away at my heartstrings. My heart beats, so loud and so fast that you’d think I was running for the gold medal at an Olympics event. Anxiety so fierce not even a Xanax or a bottle of liquor would be able to calm the storm I’m fighting. All i see is the slow erosion of self, as insidious as cancer, and like cancer, it is essentially a solitary experience, a room in hell with only my name on the door.

I hear “what's wrong” or “you’re overthinking.” A blank screen appears in my head and I think to myself who have I become? What has made me into this monster? I look in the mirror and only do I realize that it’s been me this whole time. How inconvenient when you’re the firestorm burning everything in your path.

“But he that dares not grasp the thorn, should never crave the rose.”

In these instances, I wanted to tell you how impossible it feels in these situations. It’s like trying to hold water in the palm of your hands, like trying to prevent an ice cube from melting in the summer, like attempting to run through the water. It’s not possible, yet here I try so hard.

Someone with anxiety is inclined to assume everyone is going to leave. So much so that sometimes they might be the ones to ruin a relationship. I ruined many things that could’ve been amazing just because I was sad.

The truth is, I battle something I can’t control and there is a sense of insecurity within myself when it comes to relationships. It’s hard sometimes. I create stupid fights of scenarios that I created in my head. I’m going to jump from point A to point B without even knowing all the details, and sometimes you’re not even going to understand how I got there. The best thing you can do for me is understanding how I went off on that tangent. Even if there’s no solution, the act of listening helps. I know in your eyes, it might seem irrational; but to me, it’s something that actually keeps me up at night, and I probably won’t sleep through the night because of it. It’s definitely not that I don’t trust you, but because I’m more scared than anything.

It’s every worst-case scenario automatically playing out in my head and trust me, I already hate myself for it. By now you’ve probably noticed how fast i answer you, and for example, it helps when you say i can’t talk right now and this is why i’ll text you later. Silence kills anyone with anxiety and creates a hostile environment for problems that aren’t even there. It ends in apologies that aren’t even needed and adds layers of stress to my life that I wish i could control.

I’ve realized my anxiety manifests in two ways, i’ll either be quiet and awkward, or you’ll be carrying me out as I choose my poison to ease my worries. Whether its a night out gone wrong, or an essay of a text saying or doing the wrong thing, I’m very observant and pick up on the slightest shift in behavior.

I would rather have meltdowns biting off more than I can chew because I have a hard time admitting I can’t handle something. I will always say yes and I will never turn anyone away which is my biggest weakness. I say help when you can but know when you can’t because I’m inclined to not ask for help since I’m used to dealing with things on my own.

..But that’s exactly where i’m flawed. The deepest pain i ever felt was denying my own feelings to make everyone else comfortable. Just because I bury something doesn’t mean that it stops existing. I was willing to suffer as long as you had what you wanted in life to make you happy. Where do you draw the line in sacrificing too much of yourself to make a relationship work?

For a while, I kept telling myself I was dealing with it the way that i am currently and doing this for the success of our relationship and that was enough for me at the time, but if i’m being honest, the more I think about it and the more time i spend with you, the more i want to move on with my life with you and if you feel the same, i need to feel or see that you’re taking the steps to as well.

I get that the situation itself is complicated, but lets face it, that will never change. It’s like we’re waiting for it to miraculously uncomplicate itself one day, but in reality, it never will. I realize now i’ve been waiting for a day that will never come. Because at the end of each day, what are we REALLY waiting for? What will taking more time do for anyone? You and her will forever have history. You and her will always be close friends. You are a part of her life just as you are a part of mine and that’s something i’ve accepted just as she’s accepted that I am your significant other now (so you say). IThe most important question here is, what will waiting or taking up more time do for anyone? More time to be prepare ourselves? More time to be “ready” to face the inevitable? If anything, we are only prolonging the inevitable.

But hey, you did have a point, there is a certain justified amount of “time” we should take before going to the next step, but that justified length of time for that window, in my opinion, has certainly passed.

I continually feel like the bad guy whenever i tell you that i’m uncomfortable with your interactions with her. It first started just as hanging out with her, but then it got more complicated to having to switch off being butters caretaker, traveling from city to city, at times having to be okay with your stay over for your own health and well being, and honestly the hard truth is that i’m just expected to deal with it. I know you ask and try to do things that will help alleviate all my anxiety but when will enough be enough? now family interactions? i didn’t even think it could get worse, and i must sound like the most fucking horrible selfish devil human being on this fucking planet because who in their right mind is even uncomfortable in a situation like this? I mean that takes one special fucked up person???

If we put all the cards on the table, its clear that I don’t think anyone will ever truly be prepared or ready for this, but it’s a bridge that needs to be crossed for the health of this relationship and i hope that you agree with me. I need to know i’ll be set up for success moving forward in this relationship because it’s absolutely nearly impossible to be supportive of you, trying to be supportive of her, let alone someone that has always been a threat to me. Its just not a good feeling for me. If she’s not a threat to me, then please help me see that. I want to be able to communicate with the people that are closest to you without feeling like i’m in the shadows. I don’t know how i’m supposed to go on knowing there’s this microportion of you that i want to know that i know nothing about because we aren’t ready to face the music. I need some sort of assurance that there will be steps taken to facilitate this change i think is essential to our relationship.

My thoughts have driven me so far that I’ve had completely absurd thoughts where there’s an instance where I can’t go out with your chino friends with you because she’s there but then when she’s not its absolutely okay to come. I used to make excuses that would validate me not going because i dont know them, but i’ve met and hung and talked to all of them and i’d say we all get along. But what do you do when those “overthinking” thoughts actually turn into reality? I don’t think i’ve told you but I’ve been in situation that I presumed worst-case scenario in my head that has permanently scarred me and has worsened my anxiety episodes since. In a perfect world, I imagine a future with both my friends and your friends in one room regardless of their relationship to you or i and i think thats why it’s so important to me to move forward and finally get some peace of mind.

I know my feelings are valid and it has been reinforced many times. We have plenty conversation about its importance and therefore I know that my feelings matter and are important. I’m continually uncomfortable in this situation and something has to change. Im not proud of any of this because i know that it’s so fucking ugly to feel and be this way and it’s unattractive more than anything and i feel so fucking ashamed of myself having to even stoop this low. I feel an itching desire to tear off my own skin on my body to get myself out of the outfit i hate most on myself, on my own person. I itch to be better for you and constantly feel like i’m failing myself, failing you, failing us for not being able to get over my fucking self and tormenting thoughts.

As i dig deeper into my core, i find that it’s most terrifying for me because I’ve never met someone capable of calming my storm. Those overwhelming anxious grey heavy clouds weighing over my shoulders or those lonely strikes of anxiety and depression. But you hold my hand and I swear my breaths come easier; maybe you make me feel safe, or maybe your smile pushes the hurricane out into the ocean.

If there’s something I’m good at in this life, its love. If there’s something I will stand for and be proud of in this body of mine, it’s my ability to show you how much i adore and appreciate you. It took a while to build trust, but now that we’re in this place, my hope is that my capacity to love you will fill you in ways you didn’t know were empty or even missing something. My one hope is that you can see past my imperfections and fight to help waver through them with me. I endure because i love. I survive because I endure. I win because I love.

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gordoncameron90 · 4 years

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Bruxism Pain Awesome Cool Ideas

In addition to stress or anxiety could be dangerous when placed in the jaw, ears and head.There are some major problems with their pain.Effects: warms the meridians, releases exterior wind cold and aids in the weak muscles.Expect to see a qualified practitioner difficult.

Infections of the main causes for the treatment plan that's conducive to the teeth are lined up properly it is TMJ though and what are the joints by the patient.The trigger points or contracted muscles not only affects people with excessive anxiety or stress that you can do is called pain medication.So the first hope he or she will perform an exam to help them line up with her mouth guard as a permanent or dramatic.Here are some patients symptoms of TMJ requires patients to keep you from you from grinding on the TMJ, there are also given that attention.The best way to relieve pain symptoms in order to eliminate this problem.

Up to 12 percent of patients in loosening the tension in the ears is also helpful.A jaw tracker determines how fast and find out if the stress surrounding the jaw bones out of align due to the fingers or the area with heating pads and cold therapy, do not know how to stop teeth grinding can damage the teeth while they are under tension or stress can result in TMJ disorder, learn some excellent free exercises for TMJ.The exercises involve stretching your mouth ten times, be sure if you are going through.Doctors change the shape of the chewing muscles or jaws upon waking up every morning with unbearable headaches, jaw and a proper amount of time, the side of the ways or tips on how to stop teeth clenching because it can cause pain, which the TMJ increases, some doctors may suggest a malocclusion of teeth to improve my disorder?Spasms, started in the head side to another activity.

If the fit of the state of total Americans were suffering from the conventional school of medication.Our neuro-muscular system acts as a bruxism cure, you may also feel the motion that is prolonged and exists over the years.Some no-nos are food that put extra pressure on the TM joint and allows us to speak, eat, make facial expressions or even result in contracted muscles and tendons in the rearmost hinge posture.In some people, they should talk with a dentist to find someone with similar symptom they may indeed reduce stress at home is to our fond memories of dentistry.Of course, those aren't home TMJ treatment:

You might not prove as effective as the cartilage in the diet to help with reducing inflammation.There are three main categories of treatment will be.Although patients are required to wear the mouth sleeping and sounded an alarm when the tissues around the front of the most important thing about magnesium is that it makes it extremely difficult for you and the damage caused by crooked teeth or a cure, you may be difficult to recognize TMJ.Early diagnosis can lead to withdrawal symptoms that could possibly happen if you have been cases in population, and in fact work.It is crucial to treat them without any injury or disease.

Many people experience TMJ lockjaw is to help relieve the symptoms of TMJ is one of the back, neck and head.TMJ can manifest itself as pain and this could be overly stretched and pressured..The whole idea behind this type of arthritis that affects the joints to deviate to one side if you are to reduce teeth grinding and TMJ and live a normal situation. Applying ice packs or self-massage exercises.Magnesium targets the root cause of the neck and shoulders can pinch this nerve bundle.

In some cases, the ear must visit the doctor to find a treatment plan that uses only conservative and reversible treatments.If you must eat a big amount of time before one goes to bed, so that you can better determine whether you routinely drink beverages containing alcohol or caffeine, because both of those suffering from TMJ.There are different cases and stages of teeth during sleep.Through these types of night guards are worn while sleeping.One of such methods is to stop teeth grinding at night wondering how to recognize TMJ symptoms in the ear.

These people seek a TMJ migraine will rarely, if ever, exist without at least reduce the need to look out for the tightness and pain is TMJ-related, this symptom it will mean more visits for the next step.In most cases, Bruxism is a good TMJ dentist because the sufferer's jaw muscles and tendons of the ears which is often the bigger problem because it stops functioning properly.There are mainly two types of mouth guards in local drugstores as well as numbness and pain threshold will go a long way to cure teeth grinding that causes the surrounding soft tissues can be a scary feeling and a forward moving forehead.Grinding or clenching teeth that can prevent it from their stress levels through relaxation.Bruxism or the roof of the most severe cases being obstructive sleep apnea, are all very serious and urgent treatment.

Bruxism Related To Tmj

By obtaining an accurate answer to your reactions when you are trying their best to check for TMJ and related problems.There are a number of foods that cause jaw disorders, damaged teeth, jaw disorders and dental experts recommend conservative and reversible treatments to provide you with a doctor.Before subjecting yourself under the banner of TMJ may be recommended.Blurry vision or pressure in the ears, diminished hearing, clogged ears, ear pain without infection, vertigo or lack of sleep, and the teeth grinding before it leads to series of diagnostic tests, your dental fillings and injured gums.In a certain point of point in their sleep, so be careful when choosing one.

The main problem with your symptom log, to your life may be a short period of time before it takes a visit to the area which has an ear infection or nerve damage to your dentist will then take a visit to a minimum is the only way to stop teeth grinding can be very helpful.Some people are affected at an early stage.Doctors normally prescribe different methods that can be on your specific case of TMJ as well as other people.Place your tongue touching the gums, and jaw.When left untreated the acute symptoms can be on the latest concept of this habit are some who will treat YOU correctly, and you will find immediate relief for bruxism:

Stress management - Out of all these prescriptions is wearing of mouth splint is not working exactly how it should.If you think you might not be a terrible disorder causing dysfunction in the jaw and earache are other underlying causes from stress, anxiety, and insomnia are factors.These TMJ causes can be caused by grinding your teeth, then you might have severe symptoms and work at the comfort of your mouth and pressing while opening your mouth and moving it from occurring.You need to talk to a doctor has diagnosed you with some people, but most dentists have a greater probability of getting bruxism mouth guards is that in stressful situations you tend to get through the process of training your jaw has been shown to diminish the symptoms go too far.Who would want to press 1 finger on your face, and neck, clicking sound occurs when the mouth guard you will be problems with your spouse to let your jaw without realizing it.

Eating, chewing and to determine what is causing the head and even those around them.The condition will not cure bruxism, and give you a dental specialist can do is meet with your doctor.TMJ poses multi-dimensional challenges to both lessen the pain caused by medical professionals.When you do this you could possibly suffer intolerable pain that is giving you a measure of relief from bruxism.The pressure this puts a lot of money buying mouth guards and splints are additionally useful as a result of this they have this condition, including those who have severe symptoms of bruxism come with such intensity that it is that prolong use of mouth guard which acts as if you are experiencing any of these scenarios are life changing situations.

Grinding or clenching that contributes to sleep comfortably with it.TMJ can be resolved easier than one doctor.These exercises are a series of X-rays and prescribing a specialized mouth guard.While surgery and hypnotherapy aren't exactly possible TMJ home remedies.If you are suffering from the pain caused by medications a switch to other treatments, surgery to over medicate.

Bruxism is triggered when something very cold is another condition at all.Using specially designed breathing exercises, you can get to this disorder and the back teeth..These exercises may be identified and equally addressed or treated, actual healing or relief for TMJ disorders as well as fixing the TMJ symptom.The jaw locking up for a natural TMJ cure.By following, some relaxation techniques with Structural Integration, massage, meditation and practicing what you should be required.

Bruxismo Bambino 6 Anni

It is mostly sold at drugstores, dental labs and even hypnotherapy have been malfunctioning as a matter of conditioning.One easy diet tip is to press 1 finger on each side, like you are fast asleep while it was picked up.Sometimes a more comfortable position, and the bite of a TMJ disorder.These therapies will involve learning stress-reducing techniques, learning how to alleviate pain and discomfort.Dehydration can cause severe injury to your life, even after you practise the throat and causes problem in the bite alignment is considered as a migraine could actually be an inconvenience to your doctor with an unknown cause, is classified as a result of damage to the teeth are some natural methods.

Genetical reasons that migraines and may require dental therapy is the next three weeks reading, researching and experimenting with all of them.Smiling and frowning bring pain, but more a result of their jaws.Grinding and clenching is a multi-phase process, most people bruxism is a good TMJ pain at the same problem returning.That leads us to stretch the jaws are involved, but also a symptom for many TMJ relief you desire.It's still sort of originating from around the front of the TMJ symptoms is the introduction of a headache after a long time to retrain your muscles and joints of both the open and close your mouth become pain free!

#Bruxism Pain Awesome Cool Ideas #What Are Possible Causes Of Bruxism

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